The Only Truth
by HimmelreichLYNX
Summary: <html><head></head>The irony of it is inescapable. I am sure that the Greybeards thought that the gods were playing a sick joke on them. The fabled hero of the Nords, an Altmer, and an 'ex' Thalmor Wizard at that. Inconceivable! ( FULL SUMMARY INSIDE)</html>
1. Prologue

**Summary **

**Born into a privileged life only to have it torn away, Estoril is not the Dragonborn that anybody had expected. She does not care about saving the Nords and is an outcast among the people whom she has faithfully served. A story about the mental degeneration and eventual insanity of an individual with the potential to wreak havoc on Tamriel. **

**Disclaimer**

**I only own the plot and my original characters.**

**A/N**

**I love writing and reading about villain protagonists. Also, I love the Thalmor. They are a fascinating faction, and Skyrim did not do them justice. That is not so say that my villain protagonist is evil due to the fact that she is a member of the Thalmor. I intend to make clear that there are many sub-factions within the Thalmor.**

**With this story I wish to explore various dark themes including psychological and physical abuse, so if that bothers you do not read it.**

**Also, I write fairly slowly but I try to be consistent and write a little every day. So if I take forever to update please feel free and PM me to get a move on. As of now I have finished 4 chapters including the prologue, and have it more or less planned out through the end. **

**I have no designated Beta, I edit and re-edit everything myself. **

**Furthermore, I do not claim to know everything about the lore despite my ongoing and previous research. **

**Thank you, and enjoy!**

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><p><strong><em>Prologue<em>**

**_Solitude- Skyrim _**

**_Loredas, 6th Day of Frostfall, 4E 201_**

Grey.

Such a drab (yet dangerously ambiguous) color.

The walls of this dingey Imperial prison cell are grey, and made of lies that keep me from spreading what I know - have always known to be true, yet they keep me here with their cold, stone facade.

Bound and gagged so that I cannot even conjure up a Flame Thrall to help me - the walls begin to close in.

I am filthy, and my long black hair is matted against my head. My dress, and outer robe are in a deplorable state. This is unacceptable.

They are all laughing at me - the walls, that is. They mock me because they are able to serve their purpose of keeping me from mine.

How did I get here?

How does anyone get here? I was born, I lived, learned, and apparently made the 'wrong' choices.

In my life there are certain truths which I have been taught. Truths that I have accepted without question.

Some may consider this sentiment to be unproductive and closed minded. I however, must politely disagree.

Indeed, I am arrogant. I suppose this could be attributed to my father's influence. Auri-El knows he was among the most headstrong Altmer I ever had the pleasure of knowing.

When I take time out of my busy schedule to visit his final resting place in the capital of Alinor (The Summerset Isles as it is more commonly known) I find it difficult not to be amused by the inscription on his tombstone.

_"Here lies Lord Orthntur. Born the 13th day of Evening Star, 3E 430. Died the 2nd day of Rain's Hand, 4E 195. Beloved father, husband, and Mer of the finest breeding. May he always have a special place in the hearts of those who had the privilege of knowing him."_

If you had not already guessed it, my father himself asked for that message to be put on his tombstone. I should know, since I was there when he had it commissioned.

Despite the unfortunate, and less than honorable circumstances of his passing, nobody dared to go against his dearest wish of this grandiose inscription getting put on his tombstone. If my father was anything, he was a man who others feared and thus by default garnered immense respect.

But I digress.

This is not father dearest's story. It is mine, I am the Dragonborn after all. More than just Estoril, daughter of Orthntur and Taarmend.

The irony of it is inescapable. I am sure that the Greybeards thought that the gods were playing a sick joke on them. The fabled hero of the Nords, an Altmer, and an 'ex' Thalmor Wizard at that. Inconceivable!

And perhaps, to add insult to injury, my being of the 'weaker' sex did not help matters.

My time in Skyrim has been... interesting to say the least.

Indeed it has been quite the adventure.

There is, after all, something to be said about falling short of every expectation which others had built up for you. Not that I cared. I never wanted to be their hero. I already had a people to whom I had essentially sworn eternal fealty.

There are times I wished I had never left Alinor. As if I had had a choice.

I was so content with my life. I knew exactly how everything would play out. Life in my home town, Cloudrest, was luxurious. I had the benefit of being born into a wealthy and influential family. I wanted for nothing.

In fact I had never had any meaningful interactions with a human until my little skirmish with the Imperial soldiers at Skyrim's border. Now that too seems like a distant memory.

At the time I was rather surprised if not disappointed that they did not appear to be as weak, hideous, and barbaric as they had been described to me throughout my childhood.

However, I quickly reasoned that their appearances must be deceiving (and they were). It did not take much time for the humans to prove to me just how inferior they are when compared to an Altmer such as myself.

True, they have their merits in regards to melee combat as well as in brute force. However, few are truly magically gifted. True power lies within those who wield the arcane arts. Furthermore, one must note that they were created to be little more than Lorkhan's slaves, a form of amusement, and a way to 'one up' Auri-El's Aedra I wager. I think that has to count for something in regards to their inherent inferiority to Mer, who are descendants of Auri-El himself!

For as long as I can remember I have wanted to be a member of the Thalmor. To be great and to prove the natural superiority of Mer over man. It was a noble cause. I had to be a part of it. Father was, and so was Mother.

I regret nothing. I apologize for nothing.

The Dragonborn I may be, but my loyalties lie at heart with the Aldmeri Dominion. And when said Aldmeri Dominion did not know what was good for them, then it became my responsibility to save them from themselves.

Having any sort of 'peace' with the Imperials was a mistake. I am absolutely certain that our armies could have obliterated the Empire during the Great War if they so chose to. Now we must play nice for 'peace's' sake- as if anybody is fooled. If they are, I am certain that they must be suffering from a severe case of Brain Rot, because even that Talos-loving imbecil in Whiterun has more foresight.

Well, that is he did until that one time I had one too many Colovian Brandies, and thought it would be a good idea to stab him to death in his sleep. Do not worry, I doubt that obnoxious Heretic has been missed.

In any case, although I am currently...indisposed I will find a way out of the mess I am in. When I do - Oh! By Auri-El, those damn Imperial bastards will not know what hit them.


	2. In which mother lies

**Disclaimer**

**I only own the plot and my original characters.**

**A/N**

**Estoril's Birthday is the 21st Day of Sun's Dawn, 4E 170. So she is 5 years old in this chapter.**

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 1- In which mother lies.<strong>_

_**Cloudrest- Alinor (Summerset Isles)**_

_**Morndas, 23rd day of Mid Year, 4E 175**_

"Estoril! What do you think you are doing, young lady? It is broad daylight outside and yet, you still linger in bed?"

Mother's stern reprimands awake me from my pleasant slumber. Despite the imminent promise of further punishment, I cannot muster enough motivation to do what she asks.

"I will not tell you again. Get up this instant or you will not be going to see Heselle today."

I hear her footfalls echoing as she makes her way down the long marble hallway. Each one more muted than the other. Each one a threat to hurry it up- I do. Thus, reluctantly I drag myself out of bed. I suppose it is best I do as mother says. She always knows what is best, right? At least, she is supposed to.

But mother is a liar.

She is correct, I admit, it is broad daylight outside. She did not lie to me just to force me out of bed. She has done it before. I wager she will do it again.

Mother is very pretty, sometimes she lets me braid her long hair. It is amazing! Its the same color as snow! But she is selfish, she did not give me her hair! I got Father's weird black hair. Every kid in the neighborhood has lighter hair than mine. Sometimes I get strange looks from some of them, and then there is the occasional mean comment. Mother told me that she did not get to choose what color my hair would be, but I know she has to be lying.

I do not trust mother.

I hastily throw on a dress mother has laid out for me, and then I drag a comb through my hair. I am hungry. Maybe the cook finally gave up trying to force 'healthy' food into my diet and made me some sweetrolls for breakfast like I keep asking her to.

When I reach the foyer on the way to the dining hall the door slams open. It is father, and he is very angry. I can tell he just came from work because he is wearing his Thalmor robes. As usual, I experience the same sort of admiration and awe that I always do when I see him looking so important. Suddenly, his golden eyes lock with my yellow ones and his frown deepens. I tense up as he takes a few steps closer to me, then a few more- and then I realize that I am in his way. Father shoves past me and continues towards the dining hall, and I fall hard on my left side. I must have done something wrong. I deserved that.

I get up and fight back tears. Crying is for the weak and I wont...I wont... Oh, I suppose I will. Oh, it hurts.

It takes a few minutes for the pain to lessen, when it does I make my way towards the dining hall. Just as I am about to open the door to enter, I stop abruptly when I hear shouting.

"...unacceptable! Three whole Imperial Legions had been decimated!"

"Orthntur, I beg you, please be reasonable! Our armies were just as exhausted! The losses and continuing conflict in Hammerfell are proof enough that-"

" Don't you lecture me! Lady Arannelya is incompetent! Her incompetence in dealing with General Decianus's 'invalids' was pitiful."

"You know Lady Aranneyla is anything but incompetent! She managed to cross the Alki'r Desert with her troops. However, that is beside the point. The point is; our terms were met in the end! What more could you want?"

"Don't you see, you stupid woman! It was never about the 'terms' as you so put them. It was about the annihilation of the Empire! The end of Imperial cultural dominance! You dare call yourself a member of the Thalmor? How pathetic. Tomorrow I ride to our capital, and my-_our_ superiors will hear just what I think about this 'peace' with the Imperials."

"You are absolutely delusional. If I can see that, our superiors will as well. All they will do when you get there is laugh in your face and send you home. It will be an embarrassment to our family."

"Oh, my dear, _dear _Taarmend. It is always so amusing to hear your opinions. Because, well, that is why I, a Lord, married some unknown Landowner's daughter is it not? To hear her opinions?"

Suddenly I feel a tickling sensation in my nose, and I know I am about to sneeze and get into big trouble for eavesdropping. Our servants must be slacking on their duties, because I know this has to be a reaction to all the dust in the air. I try to hold it- but i cannot. The sneeze is loud (it echoes). Suddenly it gets very quiet inside the dining hall. I hear the tell-tale screeching of somebody pushing back their chair to get up, and the door opens.

Mother frowns down at me, but she also looks...afraid?

"Estoril, what did I tell you about eavesdropping?"

Mother taps her right foot while impatiently awaiting my answer. Her glowing green eyes are boring holes in my skull. I hang my head low. I am ashamed.

"That it is unbecoming of a young lady?"

My voice is small and I dare a glance up at mother- her expression has softened somewhat but she is still tense. She is not usually so upset when I do something like this. She is scarier than usual.

"Yes indeed. Now come, you need to eat your breakfast. However, due to your late start today it will be more like lunch."

I follow behind mother and decide to take a seat at the table beside father. He does not seem to be upset that I was listening in on their conversation. In fact, I do not think he even notices me. He is drinking something from a silver goblet, and appears to be very interested in reading some letters on some fancy looking parchment.

It seems like the cook did not listen to me. The serving girl- a Bosmer whose name I cannot remember- brings me some kind of meat and vegetable stew with a few slices of bread. Yuck.

I ignore the food set in front of me and reach for the fruit that was already on the table. Mother, who sits across from me, glares disapprovingly and it looks like she wants to say something. I pay her no attention. Father seems to have no problem with me not eating the stew, and when father is in the room mother cannot tell me what to do.

Although I would prefer a sweetroll, I can stomach fruit. I become engrossed in eating and my mind wanders.

I wonder if Heselle will let me read some of the new Spell Tomes that her grandfather got for her. She always gets new ones and I never-

"What is wrong with you! Can you not pour wine?"

"I...I apologize My Lord! Forgive my clumsiness."

Father, whose previously impeccable robes are now drenched with wine, is seething with anger. The Bosmer girl is visibly trembling in fear. The pitcher which contains whatever is left of the wine it held trembles as well.

"Put that pitcher down at once! Before the rest of the wine ends up on the floor."

The Bosmer girl does what father says and then turns to leave.

"And where, pray tell, do you think you are going?"

Father is going to fire her. I know it. This makes me happy. Father always says: "The Bosmer, while being Mer, are still below the Altmer. Whenever possible, it is your duty to remind them of this fact and put them in their place." Father always sounds so smart, so he must be right. I am not quite sure what putting someone in their place means, but by the way father says it, it sounds like a good thing.

If possible, the Bosmer girl is shaking even more violently, and I am sure she knows that she is about to lose her job.

"Did you need something else, My Lord?" The Bosmer girl asks apprehensively.

"As a matter of fact, no I do not, nor will I ever again. You are dismissed. Leave immediately." Father's words are strong, they leave no room for argument.

The Bosmer girl does what she is told.

I grin widely.

"Orthntur, do you not think-" Mother starts carefully, but she is cut off

"Actually Taarmend, I do. In fact, what I _think_ is that this Bosmer just got what she deserved. Do you not agree, Estoril?"

I am pleasantly surprised that father has finally noticed me, so I reply immediately.

"Yes father, of course I agree."

Father is pleased with my response. He then turns to mother and his smile widens.

"You see Taarmend, our daughter agrees so why. don't. you?"

"For Auri-El's sake, she is only five years old. Do not bring her into this. She cannot even understand what she is agreeing to. "

"Ah, but you see Taarmend, that is not what matters. What matters is that she is a dutiful daughter, and that she knows that her father speaks the truth. A pity you did not turn out to be a more dutiful wife, you showed such promise in your youth."

Father turns to me and smiles ever so kindly. He is proud of me! He must have forgiven me for getting in his way earlier!

"Estoril, If you turn out like your mother I will disown you. Do you understand?"

I am not quite sure what disown means, but it does not sound good.

"No father, I will not. I promise."

"I knew you would understand." Father states approvingly. "You see Estoril, unlike your mother here I will not insult your intelligence by assuming that you do not understand something because you are 'only five years old'. It is really quite unfair of her, and it is a cruel lie. I am sure I have told you before about your mother and her lies, have I not?"

I nod. Yes, father has told me many times. Mother lies all the time. While I should respect her, I cannot trust what she says to be true.

"You know, it is a pity you had to be a girl. However, you do have your uses, don't you?"

I am not so sure what father is talking about but I nod in agreement anyway. I shift my attention to mother and she seems...sad? How odd. Why would she be sad? In fact it looks like she is about to cry. This is not good. Crying is for the weak.

"Have you been keeping up with your studies?" Father questions abruptly.

I am pleased with the change of subject. I do like to talk about my studies of the Arcane Arts. Father seems to as well since he often checks or asks me about my progress.

"Yes father, Master Sinyir has been teaching me novice restoration spells and-"

"What about destruction spells?"

"He thinks I am too young for that," I confess sheepishly. "He says they are too dangerous."

"I will have a word with him. When I was your age I already had a basic understanding of novice destruction spells. I do not see why you should be any different."

"Thank you father, I would like that."

"Of course you would," father acknowledges.

The rest of the meal is taken in silence. I do not touch the stew and eat my fill of the assorted fruits. Then an idea of sheer brilliance strikes me .

"Father," I start cautiously.

"Hmm?" Murmurs father, not looking up from his letters.

"Can I have sweetrolls tomorrow for breakfast?" I ask hopefully.

"I don't see why not."

I beam at father's response. Father is wonderful!

"Thank you father!

I get up to go and meet with Heselle at the big tree when father's inquiring voice stops me.

"And where do you think you are going?"

"To play with Heselle. She is waiting for me," I explain while shifting my weight from one foot to another-hoping that father would just let me go.

"Ah, Commander Nerinmir's daughter, she is from a good family. Yes, you may go."

With that I practically bolt out the door and barely hear mother's concerned statement of "stay safe". Once outside I continue my frantic pace. My neighborhood is on Cloudrest's outskirts and is filled with lavish houses of all shapes and sizes. Most however, have slanted purple roofs and their bases, foundations, and lower levels are made up of coral. As I breath in the warm, forest air it makes me cough and forces me to slow down. I cross the bridge on the edge of the city, and there by a small waterfall and its subsequent stream is the big tree -and a very impatient looking Heselle.

Heselle is sitting in between two of the tree's protruding roots. She is casting the magelight spell over and over again. As I approach her, Hessele takes notice of my presence, stops her casting, and smiles and waves.

"Took you long enough." Heselle drawls as I sit next to her.

"Sorry, a lot of things happened this morning. Mother caught me eavesdropping on her and father arguing, and then father fired one of our Bosmer servants," I explained to her.

"What were your mother and father arguing about?" Heselle inquires.

"I am not sure," I say, because I am really not. Most of what they talked about were things I had never heard about before, yet... "I think it was about the Great War."

"I'm not surprised. My father talks about the Great War all the time," Heselle remarks dryly as she scrunches her nose in disgust. "Its so boring, he never talks about magic. The only person in the house who does is grandfather, and all he cares about is magic theory. You're lucky that you have your father to talk to and of course, Master Sinyir."

She is right. I am lucky, but Heselle gets all the Spell Tomes she wants whenever she wants. It is not fair, but I do not say this. Instead I remember something father said earlier and ask;

"Is your father really a Commander?"

"Yeah, but I don't think its such a big deal. All he ever does these days at home is look at and sign papers. But I suppose it's good to have him back. Mother said he could have been captured and killed in the Imperial City like Lord Naarifin," Heselle states nonchalantly.

"Who is Lord Naarifin?"

"You don't know?" Heselle asks incredulously.

When I shake my head Heselle lets out a frustrated sigh.

"Sometimes I forget you're two years younger than I am and so people shelter you. Well, lets see... Lord Naarifin lead the army that sacked the Imperial City. He was captured when the Imperials got it back...and then he died a gruesome death."

I can tell Heselle is not telling me everything so I press her for more.

"How did he die?"

Heselle looks slightly uncomfortable but I press harder.

"Pleeeeeeeease! Tellmetellmetellme!"

"Alright Alright! I'll tell you. By Auri-El, stop shouting! You're hurting my ears! Well, the Emperor himself captured Lord Naarifin, and then hung him from the White-Gold Tower where he stayed barely alive for 33 days. They say that on the 34th day a winged Daedra swooped down and carried him off. There, happy?"

I frown and my lips form a thin line.

"That is it? You made it sound like he had been burned alive or dismembered, or killed and then thralled and re-thralled. Or maybe even sacrificed to Namira!... Not to say that what happened is not horrible..."

As I spoke, Heselle's amber eyes kept widening until I could swear they were about to pop out of their sockets.

"How do you know about these things?" Heselle demands.

"Erm..Books?" And that is not a lie, I have read plenty of more 'questionable' material. Even material I did not know was questionable to begin with. Last year I came across a book called The Lusty Argonian Maid in the family library. It was a very strange book that appeared to be about an Argonian maid polishing her Master's spear. When I asked mother to explain it to me, she got very quiet and confiscated the book from me. Then she did not let me have sweetrolls for a week. It must have been a very evil book.

Heselle accepts my explanation about the books, and I am not surprised. She does, after all, read more than anyone I know, and I am sure she has come across all manner of different subjects. We then decide to practice our magic. It is always nice to have somebody older to help.

Heselle is really my only true friend. Sure, I have many acquaintances, and father gets many of his friend's children to spend time with me, but none of them really care about me. None of them would ever try to help me with my magic like Heselle is doing right now. I know that father approves of her being my friend because she comes from a good family, and she looks the part too. She, like myself and all children of Noble lineage wears fine dresses and robes, she even has a servant do her hair in the mornings. However, Heselle with her beige skin, flaxen hair, and soft features is a favourite of all the adults, who adore her sweet and innocent appearance. But I don't have 'the hair', my eyes are a common yellow, and my skin is a bit too pale. Heselle catches me staring at her and frowns.

"Oh not again," she exclaims.

I act like I do not know what she is talking about.

"What?"

"You know what. Your hair is fine. In fact, I like your hair. Its interesting."

I sigh, of course she would know exactly what I am thinking.

"Everybody has light colored hair, though," I argue weakly.

"That's not true." Heselle retorts. " Kalanian has black hair too."

"Kalanian smells."

"You're right, he does."

Heselle bursts into peals of laughter.

I do too.

We spend the rest of the day together experimenting with, and trying out new spells, playing tag, racing each other through the jungle, and wading through the stream by the big tree. When I finally arrive home it is dark out. I am exhausted and do not even bother with dinner. The servants run me a bath and then I promptly dive into bed.

Just as I begin to fall asleep I hear my door creak open and I can tell somebody is lingering in the doorway. The person seems to have decided to enter because I can hear their footsteps approaching. I am lying in bed facing the door. It is very dark in my room, so I decide to risk it and let my eyes open (just a crack).

I see mother's tall form looming over me. I shut my eyes quickly and pretend to be asleep. The mattress dips beside me, and mother strokes my hair. I stiffen but then force myself to relax. Mother kisses the top of my head and then I hear her murmur; " I love you Estoril." She gets up and leaves, and I am alone again. I almost miss her soft caresses.

But mother is a liar.

I do not trust mother.


	3. In which I burn

**Disclaimer**

**I only own the plot and my original characters.**

**A/N**

**In this chapter I will be introducing a character that will probably be familiar to most of you.**

**Also, here is some information about the Altmeri class system that you probably do not know already, and will help with your understanding of this chapter:**

**3 primary estates**

**1st- Noble lines, Wise Sages, Priests, Teachers**

**2nd- Artisans, Princes, Merchants, Warriors, Landowners, Workers**

**3rd-Non-Altmer with no land or prospects, Slaves**

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><p><em><strong>Chapter 2- In which I burn.<strong>_

_**Cloudrest- Alinor (Summerset Isles)**_

_**Middas, 12th day of First Seed, 4E 180**_

"You will! If you do not, I will be behind everyone else my age!"

Master Sinyir pinches the bridge of his nose and shuts his eyes tightly. The light filtering in from the library windows is casting long eerie shadows across the old Altmer's sharp face.

"You are already _ahead_ of everyone your age."

This is the argument which Master Sinyir insists on creating (as futile as it is). He should know by now that I will get what I want in the end. After all, he has been teaching me for the past six years.

"But I need to master the Adept Destruction spells at some point! Why not now?" I question, as I shift my weight all the way to the back of my chair, and fold my arms across my chest defiantly.

"The elemental cloaks that you wish to practice are highly volatile. Despite being exceptionally gifted in the Arcane Arts, you are far too young to be able to control such a spell. Failure to execute this properly could end ...catastrophically for you. You should not have even attempted it to begin with. I care too much for your safety to allow you to put yourself in such danger again."

I can tell from the tone of his voice that Master Sinyir won't concede easily. So I decide to put on a front and appear to do it his way.

"Fine, fine. Well, in that case, what reading material do you have for me? "

Master Sinyir visibly relaxes in his seat across from me. He then turns around and reaches into his leather rucksack and pulls out what I assume is my new, tedious reading assignment. He dumps the heavy, dusty tome on the table in front of me.

"I expect you to have read and written a paragraph or two summarizing the statements made here in _Malviser's_ _Response to Bero's Speech_ by tomorrow. We shall then discuss the alleged attacks that Bero makes on the school of Destruction."

Well, at least it sounds interesting. I muse to myself while flipping through the pages.

Then I notice that Master Sinyir is packing up his things- readying himself to leave.

"Where are you going? You have never left this early, it is barely an hour past noon."

"I suppose I had assumed incorrectly when I thought your father had told you." Master Sinyir begins. "I take my leave now to meet a new student. He and his mother have recently moved here from the capital."

My eyes narrow and fists clench. How infuriating! This development will get in the way of my plan to coax Master Sinyir into teaching me the cloaking spells!

"I do not think that father would have overlooked or forgotten to tell me such an important piece of information. Anyway, you are supposed to be _my_ private tutor." I grumble through gritted teeth, and Master Sinyir grins.

Suddenly, he bursts into laughter.

"Oh, my dear child! You are as naive as you are arrogant! Believe me, I have other students. After all, I did not become the esteemed tutor that I am today by only teaching you. Besides, I know you better than you think, you do not want me around for my company. You have probably contrived a way to get me to teach you those Adept spells." Master Sinyir states, his eyes glinting mischievously.

Ah, yes he knows me well indeed. Far too well for my own liking.

By now, Master Sinyir has gotten up and made his way to the large, ornately carved double doors of my family's private library. He pauses abruptly and turns back to look at me. I do not like the way he seems to be sizing me up - but I do not shrink under his scrutiny.

"Before I take my leave of you, I would like to give you some advice. Not as a teacher, but as someone who has known you for the past six years and has observed your growth into the young lady that you are today."

I shift uncomfortably in my seat. I do not think I like where this is going.

"Your head is getting far too large for your shoulders. Soon they will not be able to support it much longer. Something will have to give. But I have faith in you, you are my most intelligent pupil. And I say this in complete seriousness."

"On another note, do not let your father's manipulations get to you. They will do you more harm than they benefit you." Then Master Sinyir' s expression turns wistful and he adds; "I remember him at your age, a mere ten years old. You are already so much like him."

I want to shout at him.

Tell him exactly how I feel about him talking about my father like that. Father has never manipulated me! And as far as I am concerned, my head to shoulder ratio is perfectly proportionate.

But he has already left-the door is slammed shut. And the door laughs and laughs and laughs. That same dry cackle of Master Sinyir's.

How I hate that door. I did not know they were capable of laughter. This one is.

In an effort to ignore the door's guffaws, I turn my attention to the_Response to Bero's Speech. _ It is indeed as interesting as it promised to be when I first glanced at it.

I found myself agreeing with all of Malviser's assertions. Bero's assumption that it could ever be conceivable to merge the school of Alteration and the school of Destruction was absolutely ludicrous!

Even though I find some interest in what I had been assigned to read, I long to practice elemental cloaking spells. Perhaps I could try one of the easier ones. Perhaps the flame cloak. It does indeed sap the least amount of magicka.

Now , the problem at hand is where to practice it. I know mother would pitch a fit if I practiced any fire spell on our estate's grounds. Last time I practiced firebolt in the courtyard I nearly destroyed mother's carefully tended to Briar Hearts.

So, where can I go...?

Ah! Of course! The stream by the big tree! It is the least likely area to pose as a fire hazard. Pleased with my decision, I discard the book haphazardly from my hands onto the table. Later, I will do it later. I tell myself unconvincingly. Just as I step out of the library and into the hall I hear mother's voice call out to me.

"Estoril, dear, would you please come here for a moment."

Her voice is firm and I know it is not a question- but a demand. I groan, wondering what she could possibly want at this very inconvenient moment. She is always making up excuses to waste my time with unproductive chatter. I turn to my right and see mother is slowly and deliberately making her way over to me.

"Mother, I cannot talk now," I state- every syllable dripping venom. " I have magic to practice, I do not have time to listen to your silly observations on my etiquette or lack there of."

Mother's deliberate pace waivers when she hears the hostility in my voice. And yes, I do so hate it when she goes on in that silly way of her's about how I am not the perfect Lady she's always wished for. However my anger is not enough to deter her from her current objective-she presses on.

"It will not take terribly long, and it is important, I assure you."

I frown deeply and contemplate what I can do. Father is at work, so technically mother holds authority over me until he gets back.

" Alright mother, make it quick."

" Come and join me in my sitting room."

I follow her less than enthusiastically into her favorite room. The sitting room is lavishly furnished and the scent of the many potted plants it contains permeates the air. It's floor to ceiling windows face the garden, and mother and I take a seat at the overstuffed burgundy armchairs by them.

There is a pregnant pause, and then I know that mother did not pull me aside to lecture me on etiquette. I wait for mother to begin speaking with dread apprehension.

"As you well know, I have recently been given the option to aid the current difficult predicament in Skyrim," Mother begins tentatively. " I have decided that I will go, I cannot stay here any longer. My relationship with your father is strained at best, a separation would be what both of us need. Furthermore, our family is no longer viewed favorably due to your father's ... unpopular politics. I must attempt to salvage what little good reputation we have."

Mother pauses and gazes at me with sad eyes and speaks again- her voice barely above a whisper.

" If you so choose, you may come with me and I could-"

"No." I assert simply, without a second thought.

I can tell that mother expected this answer. She hangs her head dejectedly. This is not the mother I am used to. Mother is usually so glacial, so proper- it is uncomfortable seeing her so undone by moroseness as she is currently.

"Well, in that case I leave within the hour. I have already packed, and your father and I have already exchanged our parting...pleasantries. I cannot say when I will be back, it could be years before I see you again."

Mother poorly conceals the bitterness present in her voice, and I know it is not father that she will miss. Yet, she knows better than to ask me to come with her again. I am stubbornly loyal to father, she knows I could never leave him to go with her- one who has fed me lies throughout my childhood.

I get up to leave. I have grown tired of this conversation and want to go and practice magic. I give mother one last hard look and extend my right hand to her.

"Farewell mother, it was a pleasure."

Mother still sits in the armchair and seems unable to move, but she eventually reaches out with a quivering hand to grasp mine. I shake her hand firmly and leave. Not another word is spoken between us. I am relieved that mother does not bother with sentimentalities- I cannot stomach such things.

For the rest of the day I apply myself with near savage dedication to master the Flame Cloak spell. It is not easy like I expected it to be. I nearly caught my hair on fire numerous times- forcing myself to jump into the stream to douse the flames. I arrive home soaked to the bone and with my fine black robes ruined. The last thought that crosses through my conscious mind before I fall into a deep slumber is that I did not complete my reading assignment.

* * *

><p>Master Sinyir is not pleased- and I do not care.<p>

" You have not read _Response to Bero's Speech_." It is not a question, but a statement saturated with disappointment.

"Of course I have! Just not all of it and I did not bother with the paragraph- I can explain it perfectly well to you without having to write it down."

It is clear that Master Sinyir wishes to further express his discontent with me, but the library doors swing open. Father strides in grinning widely- a strange expression for him to display.

"Ah! Estoril! My darling daughter! Are you working hard?"

"Of course father!" I respond, instantly mirroring my father's grin.

"Excellent! In that case Master Sinyir can spare you for a few hours. There are some people that I would very much like you to meet."

My interest is peaked, who could possibly have put father in such a pleasant mood, and why is he so eager for me to meet them? Ignoring Master Sinyir's frustrated scowl I follow father into his greeting room which is adjacent to his office.

Sitting in carved wooden chairs in front of the fireplace are what can only be a mother and son. While the mother wears Thalmor robes, like my father, the son wears fine blue mage robes. However, they both wear similar expressions of disdain, have the same dark blonde hair, olive skin, and yellow eyes. The son looks to be about my age, but I cannot be sure. Father strides towards the mother and, still smiling, bows his head in acknowledgement. He occupies one of the remaining seats opposite them and motions for me to do the same.

"Atralda, this is my daughter, Estoril. She has been taught by Master Sinyir for six years now. I assure you that I was fully confident in his abilities as a teacher when I recommended him for your son. I would never let a lesser wizard teach my own child."

The mother, Altrada as she seems to be called, scrutinizes me for a moment before she turns her attention back to my father.

"Lord Orthntur, forgive me, but my son and I came here today to discuss things of a more...political nature. I did not expect that you would want to have your daughter involved in such a discussion."

"Nonsense!" Father interjects, and I can tell that his currently mild mannered humor is stretching itself thin. " My daughter intends to join the Thalmor when she comes of age, it would benefit her to sit in on such discussions."

"Very well, it is after all your home, Lord Orthntur, and thus we must abide by your rules." Altrada turns to glare at her son who is glancing about the room appearing to be distracted by something." Where are your manners? Introduce yourself to the Lady."

The boy looks down his nose at me, but quickly morphs his demeanor into a more respectful one when his mother jabs him lightly in his side with her elbow.

"Lady Estoril, allow me to introduce myself, my name is Ondolemar and it is truly a great pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Ondolemar then proceeds to get out of his chair and take my hand and kiss it. His overly formal mode of introduction surprises me. Everyone whom I have met that is my age is of noble lineage like myself. They do not bother with such decorum because it would indicate that they are not my equal. Thus, I deduce that this Ondolemar must be of a lower Estate- descended from princes or landlords perhaps?

"The pleasure is all mine, Ondolemar." I respond evenly, as he re-situates himself in his seat.

"Now, formalities aside- would you like to begin? " Altrada suggests and father responds the affirmative.

"I have not kept it a secret as to why The Council has sent me here from my post in the capital," Altrada declares. "So it should come as no surprise to you, Lord Orthntur, when I say that I will be observing your actions very carefully."

"You are correct in assuming that I understand your purpose here, but what I do not understand is why. There is nothing for you to observe. I have been a member of The Thalmor Council since it was re-founded after the Oblivion Crisis. My loyalties are unquestionable." Father muses, his face an unreadable mask.

"It is not your loyalties that are in question, Lord Orthntur, but your morals and your unconventional ideals that are causing many to question whether you deserve your position as the most prominent and influential Lord in Cloudrest," Altrada deadpans. And I know that father must be bursting at the seams due to the audacity that this woman portrays in insulting him- but he does not show it. I admire him for it, because I cannot conceal my discontent.

"Father deserves every bit of the influence he has!" I exclaim angrily. " He is a true Altmer and he-"

" That is quite enough,child!" Father snaps and I become very quiet. " You are here to observe, not to participate. Thus you shall keep any comments to yourself. Please Altrada, do continue."

I shrink back in my chair. Ondolemar shoots me a triumphant look and smirks smugly. What is he feeling so triumphant about? Oh wait, I should be listening...

"...many Bosmer Council members. Your opinions of them are quite disconcerting. Valenwood is a part of the Aldmeri Dominion and it's people are our valuable allies. They are Mer and cannot be treated as if they were inferior- especially in a political setting. Furthermore, they have aided us greatly this year with the signing of the Second Treaty of Stros M'kai and the peace that followed. Would you rather they had not aided us in ending the war in Hammerfell gracefully? I am sure you are well aware of how heavy our losses had gotten to be. Honestly, from a strategic standpoint the likelihood a favorable outcome for our side was abysmal. But then again, seeing as you have not ever directly participated in combat I should not assume-"

"Pray, tell me Altrada, of what Estate do you hail from?" Father interrupts, and for a split second ( no more, no less) he appears smug before his emotionless mask slips back into place.

Altrada hedges, frowns, and then responds.

" I do not see the relevance of this inquiry, but since it interests you so, I shall dignify it with an answer. My father and his father before him were of the Merchant class. I worked my way through the Thalmor ranks to where I am today."

"Ah, I see. Well not all of us have the fortune of being born Nobles of the highest Estate." Father chuckles in a condescending manner. Before Altrada can respond, father turns his attention to a glowering Ondolemar. " Do you intend to follow your mother's example and work your way from the bottom up through the ranks of the Thalmor?"

"I do intend to join when I come of age when I am eighteen in four years time, and yes, I will earn my right to leadership just as she has," Ondolemar responds tersely.

" What a pity,"Father drawls. " That approach of going through the 'meat grinder' is terribly undignified. True, you cannot help your...unfortunate circumstances- but it could be worse. Now, may I advise you to look into other methods?"

I can tell that Ondolemar is trying to mask his curiosity when he speaks- but he fails miserably.

"Other methods, my Lord?"

"Yes indeed!" Father exclaims. " I believe that it is all about who you know, your connections and such. I would be more than happy to introduce you to some of the most prominent Nobles in Cloudrest. I am sure that my efforts would not be wasted, from what I hear you have much potential and great things ought to be expected of you."

"Lord Orthntur, while I am flattered by the unbridled praise which you bestow upon my son your guidance is not sought after nor needed," Altrada interjects. " Ondolemar 's interests are focused mainly on foreign affairs that Nobles of Cloudrest would find to be outside their jurisdiction."

"Is that so?" Father asks, and he sounds quite intrigued. "Then tell me, Ondolemar what are your ambitions? For they must be quite specialized for my help to be of so little use to you."

" I would like to work with the Justiciars in Skyrim, in Markarth particularly. I wish to quell what is left of the ill side effects that occurred as a consequence of the Forsworn uprising six years ago. As well as make sure that the terms of the White-Gold Concordat are being upheld. As far as I am concerned Markarth has gone to the dogs, and needs firm and proper leadership. "

"Lord Orthntur, seeing as we have strayed terribly from the original subject of discussion, I too would like to take the opportunity to inquire about your family as you have done of mine. It is only fair."

Altrada takes my father's silence as acquiesce and continues.

" I heard your wife, Lady Taarmend, has recently been placed at the Thalmor Headquarters in Solitude to take the position of Second Emissary. You must be very proud of her. It is truly a great honor, is it not?"

Oh that's right. She left yesterday didn't she? So that is what she will be doing in Skyrim.

_Forget me already my love? Well, I can't say I'm surprised, you never were fond of me._

Murmurs a voice that sounds suspiciously like mother's. Yet it seems that nobody else in the room can hear it or they simply have not taken notice.

"While I am indeed proud of my wife's successes, I would ask you to desist from speaking of her." Father says, his voice leaving no room for argument, but Altrada does not seem to get the message.

"And why is that, Lord Orthntur? Could it be that the reason for her abrupt departure was to salvage your current reputation with the Thalmor leadership- a reputation which does indeed leave much to be desired. Does this fact wound your ego so that you do not wish to hear of it?"

"I grow weary of your incessant attacks on my character. Perhaps I would be able to endure such talk if we were in private, but I will not tolerate it in front of Estoril," father states angrily. I am surprised by the sudden hostility in his voice.

"Very well," Altrada concedes. "Then I suggest that we remove both of our children from the room."

Father agrees and suddenly I find myself awkwardly loitering outside of the greeting room with a pensive Ondolemar. To break the uncomfortable silence I suggest we go outside to the garden seeing as the weather is particularly pleasant today. So now I find myself with a mute companion ambling beside me as I make my way through the familiar winding gravel path in the garden. Why will he not he say anything? I wonder, frustrated by Ondolemar's clear reluctance to speak. It has been nearly 10 minutes and he has not uttered a word. How rude, but then again, he is descended from Merchants, I cannot expect the same sort of manners as I usually could from a companion. So yes, I am at a loss at how I should begin a conversation. However, I try anyway.

" So, Ondolemar, do you like it here in Cloudrest? Where are you and your parents living?"

Ondolemar looks at me with a disdainful expression that makes me want the ground to open up and swallow me whole. It is as if he thinks I am the one beneath him, when it is so obviously the reverse! I feel my civility wearing thin.

"I live in the city near the local government's buildings, it is quite convenient for mother's job that way."

Pleased to have elicited a response from him, I probe further. " And your father? Where does he work?"

"He does not work anywhere anymore, he died in the Battle of the Red Ring. However, when he was still among the living he was one of Lord Naarifin's colleagues," Ondolemar mutters spitefully.

"I am sorry for your loss. It must be terrible to have had a parent pass away at such a young age. You have my deepest sympathies." I respond automatically, knowing this is the proper thing to say despite it's insincerity. Honestly I could care less about some inconsequential dead guy, but it is not like I can actually say that. I hope that this facade will make Ondolemar more comfortable around me.

He sees right through me.

"Really? Your deepest sympathies? That's rich coming from somebody born with a silver spoon in their mouth. What do you know about sympathy?" Ondolemar accuses, seething animosity.

I am taken aback. What have I done to deserve this? He does not even know me, and he is not even bothering to be civil. So I abruptly stop walking, grab Ondolemar's arm and yank him back to look at me. He raises his right eyebrow in confusion and I begin my tirade.

"What have I done?" I implore. " Better yet, what have my father and I done to make you and your mother continually disrespect us! Father should have you both kicked out of our home and onto the street for your insolence!"

Breathing heavily, I feel my face redden with anger and Ondolemar sneers at me.

" You are such a child, you cannot even see or understand what's happening right in front of you, can you? Well, ignorance is bliss I suppose..." Ondolemar scoffs as he effortlessly pulls his arm out of my grasp.

" I am not a child!" I holler. By the Eight! I hate being called that!

"You are too."

"Am not!"

"Are-"

"NOT!" I let out a long, frustrated sigh and then an idea dawns on me.

"Well, if I am such a child then you, Ondolemar, must be tenfold. For only a child would engage another in an 'am not, are too' argument."

Suddenly Ondolemar's hostile expression morphs into one of amusement.

"Well, I suppose you must be right...but I am still 4 years your senior."

After my revelation our conversation turns surprisingly pleasant. We avoid the topic of our parents and earlier conflicts entirely and instead discuss magic theory. I can tell that Ondolemar is begrudgingly impressed by my extensive knowledge. We take a seat underneath an apple tree in my garden's orchard.

Suddenly an apple breaks itself off a branch, hurls itself at Ondolemar, and hits him on the head. He yelps in surprise. It happens again, only this time to me. I rub my head, and I am quite confused. I cannot remember this tree being enchanted. Ondolemar pushes me behind him and then faces the tree.

"I know you are there! Show yourself!" Ondolemar commands, and I hear an all too familiar chuckle and my suspicions are confirmed.

With a purple flash, a previously invisible Heselle appears. She then proceeds to pluck another apple off a branch and takes a bite out of it cheekily.

I am overcome with jealousy.

" How did you do that!?" I demand from behind a perplexed Ondolemar. I can practically feel Heselle's smugness radiating off of her in waves.

" How do you think?" She questions, clearly amused by my obvious envy. " I skipped ahead. I admit, I did run into some issues with this _Expert_ level spell, but I did it. Although I cannot make it last for very long, I am working on it."

Heselle saunters over and sizes up Ondolemar, who has not bothered to move and still obstructs her full view of me. She clears her throat loudly and places her hands on her hips. He promptly moves out of the way and is rewarded with a smile from Heselle.

"Who's that?" Heselle asks me. "Your boyfriend?"

I frown, but I am not surprised by her ridiculous assumption. Lately Heselle's head seems to be filled with boys. It is really getting old quite fast.

" Thankfully not," Ondolemar answers for me, and I am grateful despite the not so subtle insult behind the statement.

"Too bad," Heselle muses, and then asks: " Do you have a name Mr. 'Not Estoril's Boyfriend?'"

"As a matter of fact I do- it is Ondolemar, pleasure to meet you Miss...?"

"Heselle."

"Lady Heselle," he finishes, addressing Heselle with her appropriate title, and if I am not mistaken I notice discomfort flicker across Heselle's face at the use of this honorific.

However, before I can muse about what this discomfort could mean, Heselle turns her attention to me and suddenly snaps her fingers.

"Ah! I almost forgot! I came to tell you about this cave I discovered just the other day. It's about ten minutes walking distance from here in that direction." She proclaims, pointing north.

I am instantly intrigued. Heselle and I, for the past few years have been exploring the outskirts of Cloudrest and cataloging what we have come across. True, it is not like these places have not been found before, but for us every discovery is significant.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" I ask. " lets go! I want to see it! Take me there immediately."

Heselle grins and nods frantically.

"Now hold on just a minute!" Ondolemar's voice stops both of us in our tracks. " You two cannot just go gallivanting about now. In case neither of you have noticed, it is getting rather late. It will not be long before the sun sets."

"So what? I ask, annoyed. " We can take care of ourselves, and it is not like we have not done this before. We do not need you to concern yourself on our behalf."

"Couldn't have said it better myself, Estoril." Heselle agrees amiably. "So," she begins while giving Ondolemar a meaningful look, " are you coming with us or not?"

I open my mouth to protest. Despite whatever friendly rapport I had built with him, I do not want to bring him with us. This is mine and Heselle's 'thing', not his. It seems like Ondolemar too is not too keen on the idea of joining us, but on the other hand does not wish for us to go alone.

"Oh come on! What are you, an old man? Are you determined to be boring or something? It'll be fun!"

I can tell that Heselle's comments have made Ondolemar come to a decision. And so, with a determined expression on his face, he strides right past us heading north. Heselle barely conceals a triumphant smirk.

"Works like a charm," she whispers and then follows Ondolemar. After a moment's pause, I too follow.

I try to catch up to Ondolemar, but Heselle motions for me to stay back a few paces with her. She then leans in and whispers in my ear.

"He's rather handsome, isn't he?"

"I have not noticed," I respond evenly.

"Oh come on! That whole sour 'holier than thou attitude' is very attractive on him, and his face isn't bad either."

I frown. Really? Does she _really_ have to discuss this now_?_ I wonder. And I silently pray to Auri-El and every one of the other Eight Divines that I will never sound so foolish over something as trivial as a boy.

_Oh Estoril, you are still too young to care about boys, but one day you too may sound just as silly. I guarantee it. _ Chuckes the voice that sounds like mother, and I am really starting to fear for my sanity.

I consider ignoring Heselle's last comment altogether- but as usual I try.

"Well," I struggle, " I suppose his dedication to the Thalmor is...attractive?"

Heselle snorts and shakes her head. "That's not what I meant -isn't be so hot?"

"Uh maybe... Do you think he should not be wearing such heavy material?"

Heselle giggles and shakes her head harder. "Oh Estoril, you really are a laugh."

"Well, it is not intentional I assure you" I say sharply. "You know I could not care less about a boy being 'hot' as you so put it. I have no time for that, I care about a person's dedication to the Thalmor and Aldmeri traditions."

"Oh come on Estoril! Tradition isn't everything! We're young, we don't need to base everything off of the old ways! We can create new ones." She exclaims, gesticulating wildly.

Brilliant. She's going on about _that_ again. _That_ is something we will never see eye to eye on - and it is something I will never understand about my best friend. How could she say something so...so...

"So, this is the magnificent cave you discovered, yes?" Ondolemar questions sarcastically- breaking through my internal monolog.

"Yes! That's the one!" Heselle exclaims happily and skips ahead of me to stand by Ondolemar at the mouth of the cave.

It's really not that impressive, but I have come to learn that appearances are often deceiving. And so, I and Ondolemar follow a happily chattering Heselle into the dark cave. It is damp, and its walls are slick with moisture. I nearly slip - but am caught by Ondolemar who props me back up. As we venture deeper still into the cave, I have the sneaking suspicion that we are not alone. My suspicions are confirmed when Heselle stiffens suddenly, and begins to shake in what must be fear. I look to see what had disturbed her so much - it is a bear.

None of us move- afraid that if we do we will alert it of our presence. The bear is sleeping, but one cannot be too careful.

"I knew this was a bad idea." Ondolemar hisses, and I cannot help but agree. We never should have come here.

Suddenly Heselle -in an effort to turn back towards the general direction of the cave's entrance-slips and falls hard on her back. She yelps in pain.

The bear has heard us, and it charges straight at us .

Heselle screams.

I know what I have to do.

I step in front of my companions who are frozen in fear, and cast the flame cloak on all of us. I feel my magicka drain rapidly- but the cloak holds. As the bear comes in contact with the fire raging all around the group of us, it bursts into flames and lets out a pain filled roar. I smell burning fur and flesh and I focus harder. l cannot let up now - I cannot!

A few seconds later I know the bear must be dead, and I make a grave mistake.

I stop focusing - suddenly I feel the flames which I had conjured and bent to my will turn on me. It is my own burning flesh and hair that I now smell.

The last thing I hear before I black out are Ondolemar and Heselle's shouts imploring me to hang on.

* * *

><p>I am in my bed.<p>

Even though I cannot seem to open my eyes I can feel the familiar sensation of silk sheets against my skin. I force my eyes open, and see that father is sitting by my window in my favorite high backed green chair. Father senses my awakening and springs onto his feet.

"Estoril! You have awakened! By the Eight Divines! I feared that I had lost you!" Father cries, his voice full of relief, and I smile.

"What happened?" I inquire, pleased that father is not upset with me for going into that cave, and for miss-casting the flame cloak spell . At least for now...

" After your flame cloak backfired, Ondolemar conjured some water and put out the fire before It could fatally injure you. I am sure you can imagine my... surprise when I saw Heselle and Ondolemar haul you across the threshold bleeding and covered in burns. You have been out for two days."

That is when I notice that my my whole body is wrapped in bandages. I must be a hideous sight to behold. Furthermore, the sudden realization of the extent of my wounds makes me also notice that I am in pain. Gods, the pain Is unbearable. Tears spring to my eyes.

"Rest assured that you will not be playing with fire unsupervised again any time soon. At least not until your Magicka increases significantly," Father berates.

My heart sinks.

_Do not be sad my love, you shall overcome this. I believe in you. You are exceptionally talented, do not let this deter you from becoming the best you can be ._

Do be quiet, mother.


	4. In which all is left unsaid

**Disclaimer**

**I only own the plot and my original characters.**

**A/N**

**This index is about half canon half non-canon. After searching for something like this online and turning up empty handed, I decided to write a comprehensive list of the Thalmor ranks myself. I apologize for any inconsistencies. **

**This list is somewhat relevant to this chapter but is more so to the next one. I just figured it would be better to include it sooner rather than later.**

* * *

><p><strong>Index of Thalmor Ranks <strong>

**The Aldmeri Dominion Council **

***Presides over all. **

***Is made up of Altmer of the First Estate as well as leaders and representatives from Valenwood and Elsweyr. **

**Regional Governor**

***Made up almost entirely of Nobles and thus, are referred to as 'Lord' or 'Lady' rather than 'Governor'.**

***Preside over major cities and their surrounding areas.**

**Commander( Domestic/ Regional)**

***Organize Officers and act as their direct superiors.**

***Some are tied to specific departments, while others are tied to regional governments.**

***If the commander is a Noble, they are referred to as 'Lord' or 'Lady' rather than 'Commander'. **

**Emissary ( Foreign) **

***Highest ranking a member of the Thalmor can attain in a foreign area.**

***Three Emissaries present in each foreign embassy.**

***Appointed by merit by the Council. **

**Liaison Officer ( Domestic) **

***Communicates with Agents, Justiciars, and occasionally Emissaries, and reports directly to the council. **

***Acts as an international courier of sorts. **

**Officer ( Domestic/Foreign) **

***General title for Wizards, Archers and Warriors**

***Usually from the First Estate. **

***Based upon experience, an Officer is either a Senior or Junior one. **

**Commander of the Justiciars (Foreign) **

***Organizes and deals almost exclusively with Justiciars. **

*** On par in ranking with Senior foreign Officers.**

***Appointed by the First Emissary, and must have been in the area for at least two years. **

**Justiciar ( Foreign) **

***Enforcer of the White-Gold Concordat **

***Act as foreign police force of sorts. **

**Agent,Informer,Assassin ( Foreign/Domestic)**

***Generally operate covertly.**

***Are given tasks or missions by those ranked as an Emissary or higher.**

**Soldier( Domestic/Foreign) **

***Entirely comprised of those from the Second Estate who do not posses magical talent or inclination.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3- In which all is left unsaid.<strong>

**_Cloudrest- Alinor ( Summerset Isles )_**

**_Sundas, 21st Day of Sun's Dawn, 4E 188_**

I am no longer a child.

I should feel older. But I do not.

I glance upon my reflection in the mirror and am not sure I like what I see. I suppose I do not look how I expected I would. I am not particularly beautiful. However, my displeasure does not stem from the fact that I do not possess the traditional Altmer standard of beauty. That fact has stopped mattering to me a long time ago. No, the discontent which I direct at my mirror image is caused by it's evident immaturity. No matter how hard I try, I lack 'it'. The effortless confidence that father and the other Thamor whom I have met- and am to meet again today- is what I yearn to possess. It always seems just out of my reach, and in social settings I find myself becoming the bumbling fool again. I cannot seem to manage anything but a pathetic mimicry of the cool confidence that I too should possess.

That I should possess today- but know I will not, _cannot._

After all, these things take time, something I do not have in abundance at the moment.

I notice then that there is a crack in the corner of the mirror. If you did not look hard for it, you would never notice it, but that does not negate the fact that it is still there. It taunts me. It reminds me that just like it-I shall never be perfect. I may have had the innate potential to be just that-flawless. Yet, due to variables out of my control I cannot be perfect, and I carry that scar of imperfection everywhere with me for all the world to see if they know just the right place to look.

_My dear, your imperfections are a mere indicator of your youth. You try so hard to act so mature. Stop trying to grow up so fast! While uniformity may be held in very high regard by our society, it cannot be expected of one so young such as yourself! You have centuries to perfect yourself! _

Oh, and mother will not leave me alone.

I really _really _should not be having these thoughts. Today is without a doubt the most significant day in my life. I cannot afford any measure of failure. Today I do what I have always wanted to do.

Today I join the Thalmor.

But where is father? He said that he would come to get me at half past eleven, and now it is eleven thirty-five. I do not want to make a bad first impression on father's colleagues and underlings in the local Thalmor leadership.

Just as this thought runs through my mind, father saunters through the door.

"Do make haste, Estoril. I do not want _my _daughter to make a bad first impression on my colleagues in the local Thalmor leadership."

I do not bother correcting him that such an impression would not be made due to tardiness on my behalf -but rather on his. Instead I nod my head and obediently follow father out the door. As we walk briskly through the long hallways of our home, I go through a mental checklist of the mannerisms that I must employ today; stand straight and do not slouch, keep eye contact with whom I talk to, speak with a steady voice, feign disinterest, and above all else do not mention any of father's 'unpopular politics'...Right. Hopefully I will remember all that. May the Eight Divines give me the strength necessary to get through today with the reputation father has built for me intact. My eyes bore into the back of father's skull and I pray that he will not leave me to fend for myself today. While it is in my nature to seek independence, I am no fool- I know when to ask for aid when I find myself in 'uncharted waters'.

When father and I finally emerge from the labyrinth-esque mess of hallways in our home, we go to wait outside by the front gate for our carriage driver to appear with our transportation. Today the sky is grey. I happily note that this greyness is also accompanied by a steady drizzle of rain. I take in a deep breath and savor the fresh scent of the forest surrounding us. A scent that is only further enhanced by the current moisture in the air.

"Why is that incompetent driver of ours,Treiss, not already here waiting for us? We should not have to endure waiting here for even a few minutes in this ghastly weather!" Father complains while trying unsuccessfully to shield his immaculate hair with his arms from the offending water droplets. He looks quite silly the way he waves his hands about above his head. However, I make no comment other than humming in agreement. It would do me no good to disagree with father, no matter how insignificant the issue may seem.

When Treiss finally arrives from wherever it is he goes when he is off duty, he is immediately forced to endure a tirade from father. I am almost sorry for him. Yet, I am far more amused. The way that our stringy-haired, shifty-eyed driver appears as if he may burst into tears at any moment is very comical.

_Ah yes, your father is ever the tyrant. And you, my daughter, ever the sadist. _

Your commentary is unwanted, mother!

When we finally get into the covered carriage I allow my posture to relax slightly in my seat, and father glares at some point of interest out the window. We arrive at the local government's buildings nearly twenty minutes late. This fact only adds to my nerves, just as I am sure it does to father's. At the door we are greeted by two Soldiers, one of whom ushers us in.

" Lord Orthntur, I must leave you and your daughter here and return to my post," the Soldier reports firmly. " If you would please make your way to the main office there will be somebody there whom you are to speak with."

My father nods in recognition of the Soldier's request and then leads me to where we were told to go. However, to my utter confusion the office is empty. There is nobody occupying the seat behind the large wooden desk. Father too seems confused but sits down regardless. I follow suit and then take to admiring the large Thalmor banner displayed on the wall facing me. I thoroughly enjoy it's simplicity. I am looking forward to receiving my Thalmor robes which also model the same design as the banner.

To say I am surprised when Ondolemar is the one who walks through the door decked out in hooded Thalmor robes would be an understatement. I notice that father tenses, but smiles and greets him amiably. Ondolemar situates himself in the seat across from us and clasps his hands together in front of him. When father's attention is momentarily distracted by something, I allow myself to grin toothily at Ondolemar who smirks in return.

Over the years following the fire cloak incident I, Ondolemar, and Heselle have (quite surprisingly) become a near inseparable trio. In the beginning I had begrudgingly allowed Ondolemar to accompany us on our adventures. I have always been resistant to change, and I did not see why Heselle and I needed another friend. Yet, due to Heselle's insistence that he follow us everywhere, I came to appreciate his presence. Unlike Heselle whose dedication to Aldmeri customs leaves much to be desired, Ondolemar is fervently traditional. Furthermore, we bonded easily over our mutual love of Destruction magic.

Thankfully, Heselle quickly got over whatever infatuation she harbored for him. I must commend Ondolemar for so gracefully re-buffing her obvious, many, and persistent attempts at seduction. Do be aware that when I say 'seduction' I only mean the juvenile sort that Heselle was capable of showcasing at twelve years of age. Not to say that this rejection did not cause any blows to Heselle's ego-it did. Unsurprisingly, she got over it rapidly, and by the time she hit sixteen every young, hot-blooded Altmer male was falling at her feet.

Once Ondolemar turned eighteen he promptly joined the Thalmor-just as I am currently doing. Much to father's chagrin, Ondolemar rejected all the help he offered and instead insisted upon doing things himself. I clearly remember calling Ondolemar a fool- he did not know what sort of opportunity he was passing up. To say my statement displeased him would be an understatement. We did not speak to one another for a few months after that ugly confrontation. Yet, despite all his hard work he has not yet reached his goal. While he is indeed in constant contact with the Justiciars there -he has not yet been to Skyrim. He functions as a Liaison Officer operating from our capital, Alinor. Unfortunately his ambitions of reaching Markarth have not come to fruition. I barely held myself from telling Ondolemar "I told you so."

I have to wonder, when did he return from Alinor? How long will he be staying here in Cloudrest? Why is he here in this room?

"Why, Ondolemar, this is quite a pleasant surprise." Father remarks, plastering a hasty smile upon his face." May I inquire as to who put you up to this...task?"

"I did," Ondolemar retorts- while allowing his chin to rest on his clasped hands. "Usually I do not partake in the menial labor required for recruitment, but for Estoril I am willing to suffer."

I cannot help but be pleased by his apparent loyalty -that he still considers me such a close friend -despite the fact that we have not seen much of each other for quite a while.

"Well, in that case, I would like to formally extend to you an invitation to Estoril's birthday celebration tonight," father deadpans. " I am sure you have nothing else on your social calendar for the evening, and it will be quite the event. I have personally invited a wide array of Council members, Nobles, and military officials."

My stomach churns.

I had nearly forgotten. Or, at least I had tried ( and failed) to forget about my birthday celebration tonight. I foolishly assumed that if I were to put it out of my mind I would be able to deal with it better. Now I feel that familiar rush of social anxiety.

Absolutely brilliant.

"How quaint of you to assume that I have nothing of importance to do tonight," Ondolemar chuckles. "However, today you are right. I would be delighted to attend. That is, if Estoril would like me to. Would you like me to, Estoril?"

Ondolemar eyes me expectantly, and once I recover from surprise at the abrupt, odd question, I respond.

"Of course you must attend. I expect nothing less of you. Seeing as I do, after all, count you among my most cherished companions."

Ondolemar claps his hands and smirks. "Ah, see? The lady demands it, and so yes, you can expect to see me tonight, Lord Orthntur."

He looks pleased with himself. Why? I know not. Perhaps he wants to give father a hard time by not answering to him directly. How petty. But then again, they never did get along.

" Perhaps we could redirect our attention to the matter at hand," father requests impatiently.

I could not agree with father more. I just want to get on with it. I can barely contain my anxiousness. I hope that the papers I had sent in requesting to join the Thalmor have been approved. It had been such an arduous process with all the interviews, meetings with father's acquaintances, and then the stacks of paperwork. I can scarcely draw breath from nervous anticipation.

"Yes, of course," Ondolemar curtly agrees. " I have all your paperwork here," he says whilst motioning to a familiar- and nearly bursting at the seams- leather dossier. Ondolemar must notice my tense posture because he then says; "do not worry, it has all been approved, it only needs one final signature-mine." I let out an audible sigh of relief which elicits a disdainful look from father. My face flushes in embarrassment.

" Well, I do not see why you are dragging this conversation out so long," Father remarks impatiently. "Just get on with it already Ondolemar. You and I both know you would not deny my daughter- one of your closest friends- the thing which she wants most."

"I would ask that you address me as an Liaison Officer, but I know I cannot expect such a show of respect from you. But indeed you are right- I would not deny her this. Regardless, let it be known to you that I am doing this for her, not you. Frankly, she has not pieced together a proper sentence since I walked through the door. I would not be hard pressed to find an answer as to why that is. I only ask one thing of you, Lord Orthntur, allow me to have a few private words with her, and then we will not have to deal with each other until tonight at Estoril's birthday party. An event where you will be forced to play nice and show me some respect- if only to save face."

Father considers Ondolemar's proposition for a moment and then nods and promptly vacates the room. I am not sure wether I should feel relieved, but I attempt to relax and force an indifferent expression across my face.

_What a relief! This room was getting far too small to accommodate your father's ego. I shudder to contemplate what would have happened if he had stayed much longer. _

Attempting to ignore mother's snide comments, I notice Ondolemar is staring at me. Is he trying to bore holes into my skull? Why will he not speak? What is he waiting for?

"Well," I begin calmly, "Out with it already."

Ondolemar hums in amusement, " Manners Estoril, I believe there is a certain decorum to be observed when greeting old friends after a long period of separation, is there not? Regardless, I was hoping you could start the conversation seeing as I have been doing an inordinate amount of speaking this afternoon."

_He is absolutely correct! I raised you to be better, my dear! Where are your manners?_

Inwardly cringing at mother's patronizing tone I concede. "Alright, how are you Ondolemar? I admit, I have missed you."

" Ah, now we are getting somewhere. I have been doing very well, considering I have been stuck in the middle of a bureaucratic cesspool at the capitol, and for the better half of the year. Honestly, we should be handling our strained relations with the Imperials better. Yet, I still do my part, despite any annoyances I regularly face."

At least he has a part, whereas I have been on the outside looking in.

"And you, Estoril, tell me how you have been."

"Just fine, I spend most of my time furthering my studies and researching what I hope will be my position once I am officially a member of the Thalmor," I respond mechanically.

"And what is that, exactly," Ondolemar inquires, tilting his head to the side. "I know I could simply look through your papers to find the answer, but I would much rather hear it from you."

"I intend to work in the branch of the Thalmor that deals with terrorist and insurgent groups. Rooting them out and neutralizing their influence, I believe, is a noble cause," I declare evenly.

"A noble cause indeed," Ondolemar remarks. " I assume you will be dealing with the likes of the illusive Psyjic Order? Or perhaps that ever present and pesky group of Artisans that call themselves The Beautiful?"

"Of course, that is to be expected. However, I believe that I will be dealing with The Beautiful quite frequently, much more so than the Psyjics. What with all of their recent activity, and they actually have the gall to consider themselves revolutionaries! Perhaps this is because they are a group primarily comprised of those from the Artisans class. You know how those creative types are. Idealistic to a fault. They justify the murders of innocents and destruction of historical landmarks as progress! They are nothing but a terrorist organization."

Ondolemar hums in agreement and then rapps his fingers on the desk nervously. "I assume you have heard the rumors then? They have been recruiting from within our ranks."

I scoff at this. He should know better than to believe in such unfounded rumors! What would any member of the Thalmor -former or current- have to gain from branding themselves as an equal to that band of glorified murderers. I tell him as much and he shrugs.

"Perhaps you are right, and I am merely paranoid," Ondolemar drawls and a pensive look crosses his face. " Who would want to indeed? Well, I have drawn this out long enough." With that, he picks up his quill and signs the paper. He looks up at me and smiles crookedly.

"Congratulations Lady Estoril, it is official now- you are a member of the Thalmor."

I get up out of my seat and reach across the desk to shake his hand. " Thank you, Liason Officer Ondolemar. I assure you that I will serve Alinor and the Aldmeri Dominion to the best of my ability."

"I am confident that you will," he affirms, grips my hand, and shakes it firmly.

I turn to leave but Ondolemar's voice stops me. " I loathe admit it, but I am unaware what time your birthday celebration begins."

I spin around on the balls of my feet and smirk. " You would loathe to admit that you do not know something."

He raises his hands up and shrugs, "Guilty as charged," he admits.

"It starts at six and goes on until eleven."

"I assume Heselle will be attending?" He questions.

"Of course," I affirm.

With that I leave the room. Finally, I am a member of the Thalmor. Not that I had any doubts that I would be accepted. Father made sure that I would be.

_You never needed Orthntur's help either. You are brilliant, my dear. He merely expedited the process. _

I would like to agree with you, mother, but you are wrong. I am nowhere near competent enough to have obtained this position without father's connections.

Once I exit the building I see the carriage at the bottom of the entryway steps. Father is inside sleeping. When I take a seat across from him he is alerted of my presence and lets out an odd, undignified yelp. Upon realizing it is only me -and not some political opponent come to assassinate him- he regains his composure.

"What took so long? What did that boy want?" Father asks, clearly annoyed. Then without waiting for an answer yells; " Treiss! Why are we not moving? Take us home!"

As the carriage pulls us away from the governmental buildings and up the long winding road home, father tisks impatiently.

"I am waiting," He demands.

"A-ah, yes, well, he was merely interested in what branch of the Thalmor I wished to work in," I stutter, and cringe at the sound of my voice. So weak.

"Are you sure that is all?" Father probes, and I am reminded of how paranoid he has become in recent years.

"Yes father, he just wanted to speak with me freely-as an old friend. You know very well how...intimidating your presence can be," I reassure him.

This answer seems to have satisfied him, because he turns his attention to a book he had brought with him and ignores me the rest of the ride home. When we enter the foyer and are about to part ways father calls out to me with one last parting comment.

"Be sure to change into Thalmor robes immediately for tonight, they should be delivered to your room momentarily," he reminds me.

* * *

><p>The celebration was-to put it lightly- a catastrophe.<p>

I tug on the star- shaped buckle of my belt so hard that it comes off, and with an angry shout I hurl it at my bedroom mirror. The mirror shatters and its fragments clatter to the ground. It matters not, the mirror was imperfect to begin with- and I never liked it anyway. I will just buy a new one tomorrow.

_Watch your temper, darling. _

Shut up you-

_You dare speak to your mother in such a manner? _

You are not my mother! You are a voice in my head that happens to sound like her!

_Whatever keeps you sane, my dear._

She says something else but I somehow manage to block her out. I do not need her patronizing me right now. I do not have the patience to deal with that too.

I suppose the party began without incident. I loitered about the entrance hall greeting each one of the hundred or so guests. Of which there were nobles, council members, old friends like Ondolemar and Heselle, and the odd social climber. Each guest congratulated me, wished me well, and complimented me on how nicely my Thalmor robes fit. We then all settled down for dinner. The west dining hall was decorated lavishly for the occasion, and father gave a toast to my health. I sat in between Ondolemar and one of his superiors from Alinor. He was a most interesting mer who took interest in my studies of Destruction magic and its surrounding theories. Heselle had decided to sit at a table on the other side of the room next to a few pleasant looking Soldiers, she seemed to be having a wonderful time laughing herself hoarse. By the time my birthday cakes were brought out, I had reached a level of comfort in conversing with everyone and all my social anxiety was forgotten.

Then the door opened.

A late comer had arrived, and an uninvited late comer at that. It was Lady Arannelya. The very woman who has been working to discredit and defame father ever since the Great War , father may have said some...unsavory things about her, but she deserved it! That wretch was a coward! Father has told me time and time again about how she had won a major battle in Skaven but failed to continue advancing. Her excuse of exhausted troops was a poor one, and father had attempted to have her tried for desertion and disobeying direct orders. However, this backfired and instead the council ruled in her favor, declaring father delusional and not qualified to make such claims - or any pertaining to the war since he did not participate in direct battle. Since then father has not had the same amount of influence in the council as he used to have, and is limited to presiding over only the regional government of Cloudrest. Perhaps the only reason he even has that much power is due to his noble lineage and sizable fortune. And I am sure the fear he seems to instill in those who oppose him helps.

After the general shock and awkward silence that followed her arrival faded, Lady Arannelya asked one of our servants to find her a seat. She was ushered to a table in a dark corner occupied primarily by junior officers and apprentice wizards.

Her roaring laughter was heard across the room. " Who do you think I am?" She asked between guffaws and tears. " I am a veteran! Not some junior officer! So, I will be seated over there," she stated while pointing decisively at my table. " Right by dearest Lord Orthntur's pride and joy."

I swear, the tension that hung in the air was so thick it could be cut by a dagger.

There was no room left at my table, but Ondolemar's senior officer graciously offered Lady Arannelya his seat-right beside mine. After happily sitting down,she cut herself a generous portion of cake. I turned to father - who was seated at the table adjacent to mine- and silently pleaded for assistance. His expression had been grim, and he avoided my gaze.

I was alone.

It did not take long for Lady Arannelya to strike up a conversation with me.

" Ah, I still remember when I turned eighteen, and that was over a century ago," she had confessed wistfully. " Tell me, Estoril -that is your name, is it not?- How does it feel?" Lady Arannelya had questioned, to which I had replied that she needed to specify her meaning.

"Oh! I am certain you know exactly what I mean! Joining the Thalmor only because your father pulled some strings with whatever shred of influence he has left. I must know how _that_ feels, does the guilt keep you up at night, child?"

I had wanted to answer. Truly, I had. I had wanted to tell her off in front of every one of my guests for the shameless audacity of her statements. Yet, I had found myself at a loss. There was a lump in my throat and I tried to swallow, when that had not worked I grabbed my silver goblet and drank deeply in an attempt to clear my throat. Instead I began to choke. Thankfully Ondolemar gave me a few hard pats on the back and I ceased coughing. I was mortified, and my face must have been flushed bright red.

When I gathered enough courage to meet Lady Arannelya's gaze again she was eyeing me with an expression saturated with pity.

"Oh you poor, poor girl. You are nothing but a puppet. Do you not see how your father uses you to regain his standing?"

My eyes had dropped from hers. Keeping eye contact with her was unbearable. Never before had I experienced such embarrassment. Why had father not intervened? I dared to look up at the other guests. They were all either giving me sideways glances or blatantly staring. All of them had whispered amongst themselves.

Then music began to play.

In an attempt to dispel the awkwardness of the situation, the bards father had hired had begun to play a cheerful melody. But the damage had been done. I had stared at my half eaten slice of cake, and with a shaky hand speared it with my fork and stiffly shoved it into my mouth. I could feel Lady Arannelya's eyes staring intently at the side of my head, willing me to be brave and look back at her. She clearly wanted to say something more. And then Ondolemar came to my rescue by asking me to dance. I had accepted quickly, and we joined the various couples merrily dancing over by the bards. We quickly fell into step with the others and I had forced myself to focus on nothing else but the dance's steps.

The rest of the evening I avoided Lady Arannelya like Ataxia. Mercifully, she did not attempt to approach me. I made polite conversation with most of my guests and eventually got around to catching up with Heselle-who had spent most of the night dancing and having a merry time.

I had not seen Heselle since she turned eighteen two years ago. She refused to join the Thalmor, despite her parent's wishes. A fact that did not surprise me. Instead she is currently studying Alteration magic in Lillandril with some Master trainer. It had been wonderful to speak with her at long last, but her answers to any questions I had asked her were very vague. It seemed like she had been avoiding something. I also noticed that she kept glancing about the room suspiciously when she had thought I was not looking. However, I had not put much thought into it and instead simply enjoyed her company. After a while Ondolemar joined us and we reminisced about the good old days when we were still children. For a while, their company helped me forget the mortifying experience I had had with Lady Arannelya.

At eleven the guests had begun to filter out slowly. Ondolemar and Heselle remained until all the other guests had left. When we were finally alone I had embraced both of them, promised them I would stay in touch, and then they too had left. The servants had already begun to clean up so I decided to stay out of their way and began to leave.

Then I was yanked back abruptly by the collar of my robes and spun around. It had been father- seething with anger. He had told me how weak I had been -just like my mother-and how he was terribly ashamed to call me his daughter. My ears had begun to ring by how loudly he screamed. After he finished reprimanding me he slammed me hard against the wall by my collar-causing my nose to bleed and my right cheek to bruise. I slid down the wall and he had left me lying crumpled on the floor.

I deserved that. I had been weak.

Now I stare at the broken glass at my feet. I find it strangely beautiful. Is it possible to find perfection in something so broken? I reach down and pick up a mirror fragment and study it intently. It gives me no answers. I toss it back down and proceed to tear off my robes and discard them haphazardly until I am left in nothing but my underwear. In my haste to disrobe I lose my footing and trip. I cover my face with my arms to break the fall and land front first onto the shards. I feel them digging into my exposed skin but make no movement to get up. Instead I allow myself to relax despite the pain. I know there must be blood oozing out of numerous cuts sustained from fall.

Good.

_Happy Birthday, Estoril, my dear. _


	5. In which everything is Beautiful

**Disclaimer**

**I only own the plot and my original characters.**

**A/N**

**Sorry about the late-ish update. I have been replaying Dragon Age Origins and Dragon Age II in anticipation of the third installment, Dragon Age Inquisition. I want to be updating twice a month, but sadly that cannot always happen.**

**The index included in the beginning of chapter three is very relevant to this chapter. Also, this chapter and the next mark a turning point in the story, so expect Estoril to get to Skyrim in about three chapters.**

**That being said, a lot happens in this chapter. It is the longest I have written. Also, I have added an Easter egg of sorts that those of you who are familiar with the characters of the Dawnguard DLC should recognize.**

**And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated.**

**So without further ado, enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4-In which everything is Beautiful<strong>

**_Alinor-Alinor(Summerset Isles)_**

**_Tirdas, 17th day of First Seed ,4E 195_**

Some say Alinor is the most beautiful city on the Isles.

They would be wrong.

It is the most beautiful city in all of Tamriel.

For one who has lived there for nearly five years, I believe that I am more than qualified to pass such a judgement.

Alinor, the city of glass that shimmers like insect wings. Buildings with towers so tall one might imagine they reach Aetherius. The weather here is most always pleasant. Today I walk along the docks on my way to the market. The water is calm and small waves break gently along the shoreline. Perhaps the only thorn in my side is my unwanted and unshakeable companion.

_I heard that._ Mother grumbles as she falls into step gracefully beside me.

She always looks just as I remembered her. Snowy hair, moss green eyes, and dressed in the flowing burgundy robes that she would wear around the house. I know she is a hallucination -nothing more than a product of my mind- but I cannot will her away. Believe me, I have been trying for over fifteen years now. I have tried everything short of seeking assistance from somebody. I do not think I would be able to bear the embarrassment of asking for assistance from someone with something of this nature. If anything her presence has strengthened, whereas in the beginning I could only hear her voice, now I can actually see her on occasion.

I have learned to tolerate her. Sometimes-like this very moment for example- I am able to ignore her.

I just want to enjoy my first day off this month. My job as a Thalmor Wizard is at best stressful, and at worst a nightmare. But I would never have it any other way. I love it.

Ah, I have reached my destination at last. I smile at the sight before me, the hustle and bustle of the market is always so exciting. What foreign and regional wares will the merchants have today? I wonder. I observe on my right several Khajit trying to tempt me with their wares. I frown as I consider the group of overgrown cats. Are they carrying Skooma, per chance? I dismiss the thought just as quickly as it manifests. Of course they are not. All wares merchants bring into Alinor are meticulously inspected before they are allowed to be sold. Besides, these Khajit would have to be exceptionally stupid to sell something as illegal as Skooma out in the open. That matter settled, I carry on.

Despite my desire to linger and browse through all the various stalls, I come to the market today with a purpose. I am in need of a blacksmith. Every now and then my glass dagger must be re-sharpened. Perhaps I should be able to do this myself. Yet, I must sheepishly admit to neglecting skills pertaining to weaponry. I concede that I would much rather entrust this task to one who is specialized in smithing, rather than tackling the task myself and potentially ruining my favorite dagger. There is no other blacksmith that I would go to with that job than Mollldil -the best blacksmith in the best city. At least in my humble opinion.

"Hello Senior Officer! What business brings you here today this fine Tirdas morning?" Mollldil greets cheerfully as I approach his forge.

_Neglect and laziness. My daughter foolishly believes that learning smithing is beneath her. So she is forced to rely on you-_

"Good day to you, Mollldil, and as far as what business I have here, it is nothing out of the ordinary. I simply wish to have my glass dagger re-sharpened." I cut mother off with an amiable tone reserved for the blacksmith before me. Mother-who stands at my right side-gowers at me. She then lets out a frustrated huff, and instead of making another snide comment- turns to inspect the standard issue Thalmor soldier swords that Mollldil had been working on upon my arrival.

Mollldil wipes the sweat and grime from his silvery brow and approaches me. "Let's take a look then, shall we?"

I hand him my dagger and he eyes it appreciatively. "It is a quality blade, but allow me to suggest that you upgrade it."

"What would that upgrade require and how much more would it cost?" I ask, although money is no object.

"It would require one ingot of refined malachite, and would cost 100 gold extra," Mollldil responds.

I agree to the upgrade and he gets to work right away. I am not disappointed with the results- not that I ever expected I would be. To my delight and relief, mother has disappeared and I begin my leisurely walk home in peace. I take a different route today and after making my way inland and inside the city's inner fortifications I walk along the stone ramparts which are so liberally placed in it's topography. While I walk I cannot help but glance at the dagger in my hand and admire it's luminescent green- blue tone. The light that reflects on the bade dances pleasantly across it's surface.

"Pardon me, would you be Lady Estoril, Wizard and Senior Officer of the Thalmor?" A high pitched voice inquires, breaking me out of my reverie.

I sheath my glass dagger back into its holster on my hip, and observe that the individual whom this voice belongs to is a courier- a very young one at that. He cannot be much older than thirteen and is dressed very commonly. I conclude he must be from the Workers class. I assume an expression of (what I hope is) superiority, and look down my nose at the courier. He gulps nervously and I allow myself to take pleasure in his squirming before I respond.

"Yes, I am Lady Estoril. I assume you have something for me? Or are you simply wasting my time?"

"No! I mean, yes! I mean-" the courier stutters, and then gives up trying to respond. Instead he rummages around in his rucksack and produces a letter. I snatch it out of his hand and wave him away. The scrawny courier clumsily shuffles away, tripping over his own feet in his hurry. I chuckle to myself as I move to sit down on a low stone wall by the side of the road. Usually I would wait until I had arrived home to open a letter, but I have been anticipating this particular one for a while.I open it and smile to myself as I recognize the familiar, neat script of my former tutor.

_Estoril,_

_It is always a pleasure to hear from my most esteemed pupil. While the company of my many colleagues is always stimulating, their constant need to argue is tiresome. They all have egos the size of the once great Crystal Tower. But like said tower -no matter how seemingly formidable their egos may be- they can crumble to nothing quite suddenly. But enough about those sour, ancient intellectuals._

_In regards to your question, no, I cannot be entirely certain. Just last night I had dinner with your father and Ondolemar's mother, Altrada. Who, to his displeasure sill checks up on him twice a year by decree of the council. I am sure you can imagine how tense the atmosphere was. But they did indeed discuss the recent string of murders of nobles in Alinor, and it did not seem they have reached any sort of consensus as to whether or not Cloudrest's officials ought to get involved. They did however, talk of sending a group of Junior Officers over to your department, but I discouraged them. You can thank me later, I know inexperienced Officers would only hinder your efforts._

_Overall I find the attitude that the officials here in Cloudrest portray to be disconcerting, if not uniformly nearsighted. Just because these 'incidents' are occurring so far away from home does not mean they ought to be ignored! It is so easy to feel safe up here atop Mt. Eton Nir, but in the end it is only the illusion of safety. The Beautiful is said to have spies everywhere! Why not here as well?_

_One thing that Altrada and I agreed on was that your father must conduct a meeting involving all of the nobles of Cloudrest. Only then can anything be decided. It took a great deal of convincing to get your father on board with the idea, but I am thankful to the Eight that he did. In a fortnight your father will preside over this meeting and finally, finally will things begin to move in the right direction-I hope._

_Despite these dark times we live in, I pray you find satisfaction in your career. You are doing the Aldmeri Dominion a great service. Yet, on a more personal note, I hope you find time for yourself. Enjoy life and simply allow yourself time to do as you wish without prior planning. I know this notion must seem foreign to you, you have always been so serious -so pedantic. I would ask that you indulge an old mer's request._

_Furthermore, while it is perhaps an odd- and even uncomfortable - subject for a wizened tutor such as myself to bring up, someone has to. I have never had the pleasure of seeing or hearing of you being romantically involved with anybody. You are of the age when first loves are the sweetest. It would be a shame for you to miss out on such an experience. But of course, it is your choice. All I have ever wanted is for you to be happy. I have always considered you a part of my family._

_Sincerely,_

_your old friend and tutor,_

_Sinyir_

I am not sure how I feel about Master Sinyir's letter. I fold it up and stuff it into my back robe's right pocket. I do not move from my spot on the low stone wall for quite some time while I decide on the appropriate emotional response.

And then I find it- frustration.

I had expected he would have been able to produce better results. That he would have been able to rally support for me -his favorite student-in my endeavors.

In the letter I had written to him nearly a month ago I had explained in explicit detail how badly my department was hurting. Because my department specializes in dealing with terrorist groups like The Beautiful, we have been working tirelessly against them since the string of murders began nearly a year ago. What has ensued since has been something akin to a shadow war, a seemingly endless struggle against an indeterminable enemy. While we have been able to capture and interrogate a few of what we thought were key members in The Beautiful's hierarchy, it has only become more apparent that they have no true leader. Instead it seems in this case -while I loathe to admit it- the Thalmor's penchant for structure has been it's downfall. The Beautiful can rely on a certain extent of predictability while I and my colleagues cannot.

Ever since my Commander, Lord Quarlas- a noble himself- was murdered in his home a week ago, morale amongst my fellow Officers has never been lower. As one of the five Senior Officers in my department I know that what we need now more than anything is help. Help in any way, shape, or form. Even if this help only comes from Junior Officers. And Master Sinyir believes I will thank him later for discouraging Father and Altrada from sending me them? He speaks of ignorance amongst the nobles of Cloudrest while he is just as bad as them. Does he honestly believe that more _talking _and _meetings _will begin to solve anything? It is time to take action! Lives are at stake! The Beautiful is beginning what looks like will be a full-scale attack on Aldmeri Tradition, starting by eliminating it's living symbols- nobles. It is everything we feared might happen.

I groan loudly and hold myself from screaming in sheer exasperation. I am out in public and do not want to make a scene. So instead I spring to my feet and walk full tilt back home.

I reside in the comfortable housing that the Thalmor council provides for its Commanders and Senior Officers here in the capital. I, like everybody else who required housing, received a single spacious room accommodating a bed and a large fireplace with a cooking pot and spit. It is always bare of any furniture because it's occupants are almost always wealthy enough to provide their own, and would prefer to do so regardless. Housing is located in the towers attached to our offices for our convenience. I climb two flights of stairs to reach my room. On my way up I pass by a few Soldiers on patrol who salute me on sight, I hastily return the gesture but barely take notice of them- I have other much more important things on my mind.

_Ah! The great Thalmor Officer Estoril finally makes her triumphant return!_

I stand in my room's entryway and scowl at mother who is sits elegantly on the dark leather chaise by my picture window.

_I cannot help but wonder, my child, why is it that you went to Master Sinyir for help and not directly to your father? Master Sinyir is but a tutor, and well, I need not remind you of your father's status._

"You know damn well why," I grumble as I cross the threshold in a few even strides, slam the door behind me, and stand beside mother in front of the window. I do not look at her and instead stare blankly at the beautiful city below me glittering in the sunlight.

_Enlighten me._

I pinch the bridge of my nose and and sigh. "Alright, fine. You know how father is. He does not like to be disturbed, and by me especially. But I know he respects Master Sinyir and would at least listen to any suggestions he proposed." I ball my right hand into a fist and punch the glass window in front of me in rage-which thankfully does not shatter. " You know how that worked out," I chuckle darkly.

_Temper, my dear, watch your temper. _

Now I turn to look at her. "That is all you have to say?" I question, my voice cracking and sounding mildly hysterical.

_It is unbecoming of a young lady to punch windows, _mother states and I flinch slightly under the intensity of her gaze.

And then I realize...it is all so terribly funny!

"I can do as I damn well please. I am in my home...alone," I say and my voice waivers- threatening to break into hysterical laughter.

_You are never alone. _

Oh, it is all so funny! That punchline was perfectly timed too!

I dance around the room waving my arms and laughing maniacally.

"I can do as I damn well please! Ha ha! I am not your-hahahaha- young lady anymore! I can do as I damn well please! I am an adult! Ha hahaha."I sing happily. Surely mother hears only truth in my words!

I turn back to look at her, my expression triumphant.

There is nobody there.

* * *

><p>When I wake up the next morning mother is still gone. This is good. I do not miss her- even if her sudden disappearance is unusual.<p>

I stare at the stone ceiling above me for a little while before hoisting myself up out of bed. I enjoy the feeling of the dark brown fur rug under my feet while I rub the sleepiness out of my eyes. Then, yawning loudly, I stagger over to the dark, mahogany dresser in the far corner of the room.

I need to get to work. I have things to do.

After I have dressed myself in my Thalmor robes I fill my cooking pot with water and canis roots. With a snap of my fingers I light the fireplace and proceed to sit on chair next to the now roaring fire.

Then a black heap of expensive fabric next to the bed catches my attention. Ah, perhaps I ought to put away my fine black robes nicely so they do not crinkle. As I do so the letter from Master Sinyir falls out of one of it's pockets.

I flop back down on the chair I had occupied earlier and re-examine the letter's contents. I am reminded of my frustration towards my old tutor as well as his partiality towards all things sentimental.

So, he finds it strange I have had no significant romantic entanglement in my life thus far, does he? Well I have no time nor the inclination for _that_. While I have been approached numerous times with offers of courtships from a plethora of Altmer my age, I have never been interested.

Oh alright, perhaps that statement was not _entirely_ accurate. I suppose I should not forget about _him_ two years ago. I should not forget about Celeyarel. After all, it would do him a disservice.

He was (and probably still is) a Justiciar. He had been on leave here in Alinor after being stationed for a two year period in Morrowind. There had been no particular reason why I chose to have anything to do with him. He simply met the requirement of coming from a noble background, and he had not been bad to look at.

I had been bored and curious. What was so wonderful about being in a relationship with somebody? Heselle had always made it seem like the greatest and most amusing experience an intelligent being was capable of having.

I learned that no, it most certainly was not. Those six months that Celeyarel courted me were tedious. He actually expected me to spend time with him every week! Sometimes more than once a week! I, who value my independence above all else took this as an affront. I have never needed many people in my life. Ondolemar, Heselle, Father, and Master Sinyir are the only people whom I have allowed to remain as constants in it. Of course, as one might imagine, Celeyarel expected our relationship to evolve into a more physical one after a time. I did not object to this, but I derived no pleasure from sex. It is not as if I never tried to enjoy myself. That was the whole point of this...'experiment'. Yet to my great disappointment -and to Celeyarel's even greater disappointment -I could not. I know this is unusual, but I see it as an advantage. While others focus on sex, I can focus on my career and my unwavering loyalty to the Thalmor.

The water in the cooking pot gurgles loudly and threatens to spill over. "Shit," I curse under my breath and snap my fingers once more for the flames to go out. I wave my left hand towards the cupboard and a mug flies out. To my dismay I have to move out of it's path as it seems to be on a collision course with my head. So instead it collides with the wall behind me and shatters. "Beautiful," I mumble as I walk over to clean up the fragments, then proceed to retrieve a mug the old fashioned way from the cupboard. I am still getting the hang of the Telekinesis spell. Although by every right I can consider myself Adept at Alteration magic, it has never come naturally to me like it has to Heselle. She must be a Master by now. I have not heard from her in years, at least three if not more. For all I know she could have mastered every other school of magic as well. Unlikely, but how would I know?

As I sip my tea I glance up at the clock. I will need to be in my office in half an hour, so I gulp down the rest of my tea.

I am always early to work, I ought to get going. There is so much to be done, and I fear I will not be able to garner the amount of support necessary to even begin solving anything. I have no idea where to start. I stare gloomily at my now empty mug. I am going to need something a lot stronger than Canis Root tea to hold me over today.

After a swig of the Colovian Brandy stored atop the cupboard I feel I am somewhat more prepared to face the day.

Just as I open the door I find myself face to face with a startled Ondolemar -fist poised to knock. His startled expression quickly morphs into one of mirth as he drops his fist to his side and greets me pleasantly.

"Good morning, Estoril."

"Liaison Officer Ondolemar, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"No need to be so formal, we are not at work just yet," He chuckles."I was hoping to accompany you to your office this morning."

"I am in a hurry and have no time to socialize," I argue weakly, since in truth I would not mind the company of my friend today.

"There is sufficient time," Ondolemar reassures dismissively. "You will work yourself into an early grave if you do not find some measure of respite, come." And he holds out his arm to me - a gesture that I accept reluctantly-and we walk out the door, arms linked.

Ondolemar proceeds to talk about anything and everything-save for work. I do not say much, choosing to nod at appropriate intervals in the conversation instead.

Upon exiting the tower my discomfort attributable to our close contact escalates.

"We are not children anymore, others will misunderstand," I hiss. Yet, my comment goes wholly unnoticed by Ondolemar. That or he simply elects not to pay attention, perhaps finding some twisted amusement in my distress. Yes, that must be it.

As we are crossing the courtyard from the tower to get to the main building, a voice calls out:

"Liaison Officer Ondolemar! Is that you?"

At the sound of his name, Ondolemar spins around - an abrupt action which subsequently forces me to do the same- and searches out whom the voice belongs to.

An Altmer, dressed in plain grey robes with a hood nearly covering his eyes, advances towards us, waiving to attract our attention.

"Ah, Agent Vingalmo!" Ondolemar acknowledges. "I was not anticipating your arrival until the evening, when you usually choose to present yourself. Your journey from Skyrim was pleasant I hope?"

"As pleasant as one might expect." Vingalmo admits and shakes Ondolemar's hand. "I have been permitted to reside in one of the rooms in that tower over there for the duration of my stay," he states while pointing at the tower across from the one where I live.

"And who might this be? Vingalmo inquires, turning his nearly covered face towards me.

"This is an old friend of mine, Senior Officer Estoril, we have known each other since childhood,"Ondolemar turns to me and adds: "Agent Vingalmo is filling in for one of the contacts I usually deal with in Skyrim who is currently unwell. He has filled in for several contacts on numerous occasions over the years."

"Ah, yes, it really is a pity about Agent Sonena, she was dreadfully ill last time I saw her," Vingalmo laments.

"If you wish to conduct business do not delay on my behalf, I will take my leave." I offer, and attempt to disentangle my arm from Ondolemar's. In response to my efforts, Ondolemar's arm tightens around mine. I throw him a look of confusion, although he does not meet my gaze.

"Agent Vingalmo, while I am looking forward to our discourse I am indisposed at the moment. I promised Estoril I would escort her to her office," Ondolemar explains to Vingalmo apologetically.

An expression of what could be amusement -and something more sinister- dawns on what can be seen of Vingalmo's features."Oh yes, I understand _completely_, do not let me disturb you, enjoy your time with your lady."

I can feel my cheeks redden in embarrassment and anger. When Vingalmo's retreating figure is out of earshot I violently rip my arm away from Ondolemar, who looks positively befuddled.

"Oh, don't you look at me like that. You know full well why I am displeased with you."

"Why, I do not know what you could be referring to, Estoril," Ondolemar claims-feigning innocence and barely concealing a smirk.

"I see that you cannot be reasoned with. Fine. But know this, whatever joke you are trying to play is not funny. You are like a brother to me."

An emotion, not unlike hurt, flickers across his eyes. But just as quickly as I think I see it, it is gone- only to be replaced by his usual unreadable visage.

"Of course, Senior Officer Estoril. I sincerely apologize for any discomfort you have experienced at my expense. I will leave you to the work which you are in such a hurry to get to. I know my company is no longer needed," he drawls coldly and begins to walk in the direction which Vingalmo had gone in moments ago.

As I watch his retreating figure, I know I should feel something.

But I am not sure what.

* * *

><p>"Senior Officer Estoril, there is something that Commander Fairndil wishes to see you about." The Junior Officer's voice is steady, but I can sense that whatever news Commander Fairndil needs to relay to me is urgent.<p>

I get up from the seat behind my oak desk and move to stand beside the Junior Officer.

"If that is the case then you must take me to see her at once," I demand, and he complies immediately.

Commander Fairndil used to be the Thalmor First Emissary to Elsweyr before she retired about fifty years ago. After the recent murder of our last Commander, she was appointed his position temporarily while a suitable replacement is being sought after. More than once I have gotten the impression that she is less than thrilled to be working for the Thalmor again. Yet, in her case, I cannot blame her. She has to be well over two hundred years old, and from what I have heard she was pulled out of retirement to fill this position. Although I am certain she has realized that desperate times have called for desperate measures, and she was the only person available with enough experience to manage such a situation.

"Commander Fairndil, you had something important to tell me?" I inquire as I approach her desk- the Junior Officer at my heels.

"Yes, I believe we have acquired some very valuable information late last night from a group of our Agents- Uulyon, leave us."

The Junior Officer bows his head lightly and leaves without a word.

"As I was saying," Commander Fairndil continues. " I am sure you know about the groups of Agents being sent infrequently in search for The Beautiful's strongholds. But, what you do not know is that I have recently ordered a campaign, dispersing all available Agents throughout Alinor's surrounding cities, these being; Riverwatch, Riverfeild, Marnor Keep, and Glenview. Unfortunately these efforts had all been in vain, and I was contemplating on sending this search further inland. However, late last night a group of Agents turned up at my door. They had gone against orders and had not joined the others in the search, and had instead been to the island just off the city's shores, Western Coridale. They reported seeing very suspicious activity there. I believe we can safely assume that they may have found what we have all been looking for."

"How do you know that these Agents are not working for The Beautiful?" I demand, perhaps a touch too harshly for addressing my Commander.

Commander Fairndil's brow furrows and she scowls lightly before responding, " these Agents have proved their loyalty to the Thalmor time and time again. One of them happens to be my own niece. I believe we can safely assume that they are above corruption. And then there is a fact that should be obvious to you; I am your Commander and you are not to doubt my verdicts."

" Of course Commander, I apologize for questioning your judgement, it was not my intent to usurp your authority in any way, " I concede- yet I am still unconvinced.

" That is good to hear," she approves. " Now we come to the point where you and your expertise is needed. Upon reading your file I have gleaned that you have successfully sequestered no less that eight of The Beautiful's Agents. That is a feat few can boast of, considering how skilled The Beautiful are at remaining illusive."

I try not to let the flattery go to my head, but I am pleased to be acknowledged for all of my hard work and dedication by my Commander.

"Thank you, Commander Fairndil, you flatter me. I am undeserving of your praise," I say, trying to sound as humble as possible.

"Nonsense! Your dedication and skill is admirable. Now, what I need you to do is to put those skills of yours to good use yet again. If this location in Western Coridale is indeed a stronghold for The Beautiful, this could be a turning point. Gather a group of your choosing and leave within a day for Western Coridale. You must act quickly- we do not know how long they intend to stay in this location. It would be preferable for you to capture as many agents as possible. However, a dead agent of The Beautiful is better than a live one, so eliminate those you cannot capture. This dossier will have everything you need to know to complete the mission."

I take the dossier out of Commander Fairndil's outstretched hand.

"Thank you for this opportunity, Commander Fairndil, rest assured, I will not disappoint you," I assert confidently.

If this lead turns out to be legitimate, it could potentially mark the turning point in this shadow war. On the way back to my office I feel as if I am floating. I cannot wait to get started.

* * *

><p>It is late afternoon.<p>

We are shrouded in the darkness of the trees surrounding us, our presence well hidden.

What concerns me is not the heavy silence encircling myself and my group of Officers and Soldiers, but the open field before us.

I know from experience that open fields are never good news. It is impossible to sneak about when there is nowhere to hide. In the center of the field is a lone shack. Before setting sail for Western Coridale, I had debriefed the group of Agents that had been here before. Apparently there is much more to this 'abandoned' shack than meets the eye. They had observed that there are underground passageways beneath the surface- with their entrance being in the shack.

It is all very clever of The Beautiful. Place an inconspicuous looking edifice in the middle of a wide open expanse of browning grass. Nobody in their right mind should be tempted to approach it. Especially if the expanse of open grass happens to be in the middle of a forest. Everything about it screams 'trap'.

"Senior Officer Estoril, I believe this is a trap," one of the Soldiers murmurs to me fearfully.

The Soldier beside him apologizes for his friend's tactless remark, but I hardly take notice of either of them. I am focused entirely on the task at hand. It seems there is only one way to proceed.I turn to the Junior Officer on my right...Ocantar, was it? Yes, that was his name.

"Junior Officer, Ocantar," At the sound of his name the Junior Officer is abruptly drawn out of his musings and stands at attention. Before he can voice his acknowledgement, I continue in a clipped tone; " We will confront the enemy directly. I am through hiding. No more cloak and dagger, for once we face the enemy head-on and hopefully surprise them by doing so."

"An excellent decision Senior Officer Estoril, it is fortuitous then that we brought so many soldiers."

I hum in agreement and notice three more Junior Officers lingering off to my right. They seem to have something to say, so I prompt them to speak.

" The immediate vicinity appears to be clear, we have cast detect life and have not discovered hidden enemies," one of them reports.

"Good, good," I murmur and then begin doling out orders to the six Junior Officers in my group.

We will split up into three groups, each one comprising of two Junior Officers and ten Soldiers. The first group, lead by Junior Officer Ocantar, will advance upon the shack. No doubt the field is littered with rune traps, thus, I instructed Junior Officer Ocantar to cast wall of flames across the field first, so as to trigger the traps in a relatively safe manner. The flames will undoubtedly destroy the shack and smoke The Beautiful out like the vermin they are, forcing them to face the soldiers head-on. After the field becomes safe to traverse, the first group will attack. While The Beautiful's forces are wrapped up in the conflict with the first group, the second group's Soldiers will advance, with the Junior Officers in tow. While the Soldiers engage in melee combat, the Junior Officers will be able to support from afar. I will remain with the third and final group. We will stay amongst the shadows of the forest and prevent anybody from escaping.

The field is indeed covered in rune traps- just as I had expected. It seems that The Beautiful are partial to fire runes, because the moment Junior Officer Ocantar's wall of flames touches what must be a rune trap, the steady stream of fire flares up and expands-it's flames coming dangerously close to our position before dying down again.

"Enough," I order, and Junior Officer Ocantar halts his casting. I survey the damage that has been done, and am very satisfied.

The shack has been reduced to a pile of rubble and smouldering coals, patches of dry field still burn nicely. The taste of smoke in the air is delicious.

Yes, I am very satisfied.

Before long I notice two figures crawl out from under the remains of the shack. The shadows cast upon them by the flames are harsh, yet the smoke surrounding them obscures their faces. They stagger, and one trips and falls to their hands and knees, the other tries to help them up but ends up on all fours as well. They are soon overcome by coughing fits, and are undoubtedly beginning to choke on the smoke in the air. One of them seems to be trying to say something but is unable to do so, but when they try again I am able to understand them.

"Well,well, what's a bunch of swanky Thalmor bastards doing out here? Trying to play detective and sniff out the big, bad terrorist organization's hideout, are we? Well, seems like we're the only ones here right now, doesn't it?" of them taunts.

"Better turn back now if you know what's good for you!" The other chimes in.

I put my hands on my hips and huff incredulously. Do these two...Nobodies! Expect me to do whatever they tell me? Do they take me for a fool!? Do they expect me to gather my troops and simply...leave? No. I will not do that! Even in the off chance that The Beautiful managed to vacate this hideout before we arrived, we can still capture these two presumptuous annoyances and bring them back to headquarters for questioning.

One of the Soldiers from the first group- a pretty, young thing of about eighteen years of age with doe eyes- glances at me nervously. " Are we to proceed, Senior Officer Estoril?" She asks tentatively.

I glower at her in response. I will not have anybody questioning _my_ orders! For _any_ reason! How dare she? It seems like this Soldier needs to learn her place.

" Yes, Soldier, we will proceed exactly as planned," I snarl. And the Soldier shrinks at the venom present in my voice.

"In fact," I continue " I believe that you should lead us, since you seem so keen on questioning _my_ authority. Perhaps you think you would do better?"

A look of pure horror distorts the Soldier's attractive features. "P-please Senior Officer Estoril! I-I-I m-meant no disrespect! I implore you, please do not make me do this!" She begs because she knows how dangerous it would be for her to lead a head-on assault, but I have made up my mind.

"That was a direct order, Soldier, it would be unproductive for you to display any further disobedience," I deadpan.

The Soldier nods and bows her head, resigned to her fate.

I briefly turn my attention to the two figures out in the middle of the field. They have managed to both stand upright again. Yet, they have stayed put. No doubt assessing our next move. I then focus my attention back on the first group, all twelve are patiently awaiting my orders.

"She will be leading the first assault," I command while pointing at the disobedient Soldier. "None of you will move an inch until she has gotten at least ten feet into the field. And if there are any of you who are still having second thoughts, know this; those two imbeciles out there are clearly bluffing, why else would they be standing there so exposed and vulnerable to us? They would have to be either incredibly stupid or incredibly brave to face us alone. And remember, bring them to me - alive if possible."

The Soldiers and Junior Officers murmur in collective understanding , and then turn to stare at the Soldier, waiting for her to lead them. She looks very frightened, and throws me a pleading look. I ignore it, and she takes an audibly shaky breath before walking stiffly onto the field.

It seems like Junior Officer Ocantar's wall of flames did not set off every fire rune. She does not even make it six feet before stepping on one. It explodes in a burst of bright flames, and the Soldier lets out a blood-curdling scream before falling limply to the ground with a resounding thud.

I speak before anybody from the first group can comment. " Well, what are you all waiting for? Advance!"

While the first group marches forward, I notice that the two individuals in the middle of the field have yet to move.

This worries me.

I squint my eyes and to try and see through the smoke a little better, but it is of little use. I cannot tell if anyone else is hiding behind them underneath the rubble.

As soon as the first group reaches them one of two shouts: "Now!" And just as I had expected, at least twenty more figures crawl out of the ground to join the other two.

What I did not expect was what happened next.

I cannot believe how stupid I had been to overlook the possibility of this occurring.

Above us, the tree's highest branches are lit by purple flashes. And I remember what Heselle told me all those years ago when we were still children.

Detect life does not work on obscured, invisible enemies.

I watch, dumbstruck, as at least fifty Agents of the Beautiful- dressed in a variety of different armor - drop from the trees and attack.

"Orders, Senior Officer! What are your orders?!" Junior Officer Ocantar implores.

I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. I hear Junior Officer Ocantar begin ordering Soldiers in my stead.

I just cannot-

_Five Soldiers shriek as they are hit by chain lightning_.

-seem to-

_Blood gushes out of a Junior Officer's slit throat_.

-do anything-

_A group of my scattered and fleeing troops are halted by a well placed mass paralysis, and then mercilessly butchered._

-right.

I am brought out of my morose reverie and back to reality by a spear of ice whizzing past- just barely missing me. I cast ironflesh on myself and dart behind a tree to take cover and assess the damage done to my forces.

They have dwindled from thirty-six to a mere fifteen. This should not have happened.

"Well, look who's here! It's the glorious Senior Officer! Still alive, and with barely a scratch on her!"

My head whips around to my right at the sound of that familiar, taunting voice. I am faced with a leering Altmer, that _nobody_ Agent of The Beautiful. He leans leisurely against the tree trunk that I am taking refuge behind. His leather armor is lightly singed from direct exposure to smoke and flames, and from climbing up from under the shack's remains. Without a moment's thought, I toss a ball of fire directly at his smug face. He clearly had not expected that, and falls to the ground, writhing in pain and clutching his burnt face. I see that he is trying to cast a healing spell, so I have to act quickly.

Thankfully, no one else has taken note of my presence. I begin to focus my Magika. I wave my arms to bend it to my will, and then release it as a massive, crackling, beam of lightning aimed at the Agents of The Beautiful surrounding my remaining forces. At least three of them are disintegrated on impact, while others around them are injured-badly, I hope. The rest -all thirty plus of them- are now alerted of my presence. All at once, a myriad of spells are thrown at me. I stop casting lightning storm momentarily to put up a ward and brace myself for impact. When the spells hit, the ward dissipates and the full force of at least a dozen spells slam me to the dirt.

I struggle to get up, and stagger on unsteady feet. My whole body hurts and everything is spinning. At least my efforts were not in vain. My few remaining Soldiers are now fighting with a renewed fervor, and The Beautiful's Agents cannot pay attention to me. Just as I attempt to dual-cast a fast healing, an acute,strange pain rips through the back of my right shoulder. I twist my head around to see a glass dagger sticking out of it. At first I am confused. How did that get there? But then I let out a gasp as I feel the dagger being abruptly ripped from my body, and I catch a glimpse of a burnt, mutilated face before I feel myself get stabbed in the back again. And again, and again.

I fall to the ground once more. The Agent that had stabbed me in the back has left me alone now. Perhaps assuming that I will just bleed out.

I turn my head to the side and spy the glass dagger, now discarded after being used for it's murderous purpose, and soaked in my blood. The light that reflects on the bade dances pleasantly across it's surface. It is _my_ glass dagger. It must have somehow fallen out of it's holster when I had hidden behind that tree. How quaint.

So, this is how it ends?

Apparently not, because suddenly I am being lifted, tossed over somebody's shoulder, and carried away. I am too weak to care if the person who is carrying me is friend or foe. But when I feel the warmth of a grand healing being cast ,and hear Junior Officer Ocantar's voice I would be lying if I said I was not immensely relieved.

"Senior Officer Estoril," he starts, and his voice sounds breathless- he must be running.

"Everyone is dead. But we will be alright. I am getting us to safety."

I allow myself to take comfort in the momentary respite I have been given. Not letting myself to put thought to how exactly Junior Officer Ocantar could have managed to live while everyone else died. I will differ these thoughts to a later, more lucid time.

And so, the haze of exhaustion overtakes me, and my world slips into darkness.


	6. In which I find momentary respite

**Disclaimer: **

**I only own the plot and my original characters.**

**A/N:**

**I did not plan this chapter. It just happened. It is very different, very weird. There are major hints for content in future chapters.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4.5 - In which I find momentary respite<strong>

_The water comes up to my nose- and rises still. To my lower lashes, to just underneath my eyebrows, higher, higher still..._

_It seeps through every crack, every crevice of my being. And I begin to sink to the bottom of the Eltheric Ocean. _

_How relaxing._

_Oh look! There she is! I wave at Heselle, who sits reading on the seabed clad in a long taupe dress. A multitude of colorful fish circle her. Her flaxen hair is splayed around her and floats like seaweed. _

_She does not notice me. _

"_Hey!" I shout, trying to get her attention. _

"_Hey, yourself Senior Officer Estoril," she responds coolly without looking up from her book. _

"_You're bothering me. You should leave." _

"_I never bother you," I chuckle as I move to sit next to her. _

_What is she reading? I attempt to find out, but when Heselle notices she slams the book shut and it disappears. _

" _I said," Heselle snarls through clenched teeth. " You. Are. Bothering. Me." _

" _I most certainly am not!" I argue childishly, enjoying the silly banter with my best friend. I had missed her. _

"_Well I haven't missed you. So just go away. Don't come back." _

_She almost sounds serious. _

"_Are you dead?" I ask, concerned. _

_Heselle scoffs and lies back in the sand, she crosses her arms behind her back and rests her left leg over her right one._

"_No I'm not dead." _

"_Am I dead?" I ask fearfully. _

"_You know you're not. So just leave." _

"_I cannot," I murmur, and I realize that it is true. I do not know how to leave. " What have you done?" I whisper, and my voice sounds so far away. _

"_Exactly what you expected me to," she answers abruptly. _

"_Please! Let me understand! I do not understand!" I plead, inching closer to her resting form. Yet she only seems to get farther and farther away the closer I get._

_Then she looks me straight in the eye, and says a single, poignant word. "Good." _

_It is not Heselle anymore, but a Flame Atronach who now gazes at me earnestly with blazing fire for eyes._

"_Stop boiling the water!" I protest as I attempt to banish the Daedra before me. _

_But I get no reply, because Flame Atronachs cannot speak._

_I soon find that no matter how hard I try I cannot make it go away. Although I should not be surprised. After all, few Altmer are familiar with spells within the School of Conjuration- I am no exception to the rule. No matter how much I wish to be different. Why can I not be different? _

_I have always wanted to be the same. _

_We stare at each other. And I muse to myself how rude it is of it to make the water so uncomfortably warm. _

_A few weeks pass in this manner. I do not move. I do not speak. I do not blink._

_I endure. _

_And then the colored fish begin to bite me. They chew through the material of my Thalmor Robes creating neat little holes. They do not stop there. Their razor sharp teeth dig into my flesh. They chew and chew and chew. _

_I ignore them. I am mesmerized by the Flame Atronach's blazing gaze. _

_I have found tranquility. _

_I will be different. I am meant to be different. _

"_You should leave now," Heselle remarks casually, and I nod and wave goodbye to the fiery Daedra. She smiles amiably and waves as she continues to boil the water- now infused with my blood. I am glad to be rid of it. _

_I fall up. Up to the surface. _

_I am not upside down. The world is. _


End file.
